Free?
by 20BlueRoses
Summary: Sirius gets released from Azkaban after a year. How do he and Remus come to terms with everything that's happened? What challenges does their future hold? R/S
1. Chapter 1

**I'm new to this, be gentle!**

**I hate the thought of Sirius being in Azkaban for twelve years, so I wondered what would happen if he got out after one, and how his and Remus' relationship would continue. ****I'm going to alternate P.O.V in each chapter to address this. Sorry if some of the details are wrong.**

**1. Sirius**

An urge to fight the men flickers at the back of his mind, but they are either side of him, bigger than him, and chains bind his wrists to theirs.

Neither man has spoken to him except to tell him he's scum. They had first muttered it when they arrived in his cell and punched him in the stomach. They had roughly yanked him off the floor, bound him to themselves, and dragged him down a maze of dim corridors. Every time he stumbled he earned another punch.

They didn't say why they fetched him, and he didn't think to ask. While they were still in the confines of the prison his thoughts were overwhelmed by misery and memories, crashing together, drowning him. Then they were outside, and he was being hit by the fresh air, forced to take deep shuddering breaths. His chest throbbed, but with each desperate gasp he recalled another memory. Laughing as he wrestled James, little Harry gurgling as he grinned up at the pair of them, Remus smiling at him, holding him at the waist, and... James dead, Lily dead, Harry alone, Remus... The conflicting thoughts were as painful as the air hitting his system, and with a directional pull from his left he stumbled and fell into the boat. His arms were stolen by the men, and unable to protect his head it sharply hit the side.

When he awoke he realised they were nearing land. The two men climbed out the boat first, and he was unwillingly dragged after them by the chains, his knees scraping painfully against the ground. He wriggled his legs, willing the soles of his feet to connect with land so he regain balance, but the men were too fast and he couldn't manage. Just when he thought his knees couldn't take any more cuts and his arms felt like they would finally break free from their sockets, the men stopped. Hastily he climbed to his feet, disgusted by the weakness of his legs.

"On three," one of the men had said, and they counted. With a tight sensation and a sickening lurch of his stomach the whole world went black. When he regained sight he found he was on the floor again, this time inside and surrounded by men and women wearing long robes and stern faces.

"Sirius Black," a voice says

He looks up and sees a wizard staring down at him with a mix of disgust and fear on his face.

The man smoothes his robes. "You are here today for a belated trial. Believe me when I say I regret this," he continues, his voice cold and sneering "the waste of resources spent on bringing you here, that is. Rest assured you'll soon be back in Azkaban, and no-one will doubt your guilt." With that he turns his back, and leads the party of witches and wizards into the courtroom.

Sirius, becoming accustomed to the variety of thought in his head, looks around and recognises where they were. The stone walls lit dimly by lanterns give it away. The Ministry. _A trial_. His stomach leaps with relief. He finds the courage to struggle to his feet, glad that despite the looming blackness he can still balance. The captors on his either side force him to move as they take two large steps towards the door, except in his case it's five. He dimly realises that he too is tall, and remembers how he used to stride around the school with only James standing a chance of keeping up, while Remus happily lingered behind and Peter trotted along as fast as he could.

He wonders what the court are going to do to him, what he can say to make them believe he's innocent. Why's he allowed a fair trial now? What's changed? The doors in front of him are pulled open from the inside, and an elbow in his ribs signals him to move. Around him he hears disapproving mutters, jeers and insults echo around the room. It's alarming after the deadly silence he's used to. He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, and attempts to block out the noise. If he fell now would that be his chance over? He is thrown onto a large stone chair, and one by one the chains that bind him reattach themselves to the arms of the chair, freeing his captors of their burden. The seat is large, and he is lost in the middle. The chains are tight and hold him uncomfortably in place.

A familiar cough stands out from the blur of noise. Sirius looks up and finds his eyes drawn towards some plum robes that look alarming among the sea of black. Dumbledore. The owner of the robes smiles at him, another unique quality. It's a smile that says _I believe you_ and Sirius is bathed in gratitude. He finds strength in the wizard's eyes, and doesn't look away until even when the interrogator begins.

Sirius tries to listen, but the beat of his heart drowns out the words, and he is therefore alarmed when a young witch approaches him, firmly wrenches his jaw apart and pours in three drops of a cold, minty liquid. He chokes but swallows the mixture, focusing on the encouraging smile of the plum wizard. His head becomes lighter, almost unattached from his aching body, and clearer, no longer forced to listen to those destroying thoughts. He sees the interrogator turn towards him.

"Name."

"Sirius Black," he says automatically. His throat hurts, unaccustomed to speaking after twelve long months of silence, but his voice is clear, the Veritaserum taking affect.

"On the night of 31st October last year, where were you?"

"I began the night by visiting Peter Pettigrew." Again he is surprised by the calmness of his voice. "I wanted to check he was okay."

"Your reasons for that?"

"I knew that Peter had been made Secret Keeper for James and Lily Potter." He hears a murmur go round the room, but continues. "It was meant to be me, but I backed out at last minute. It was too obvious for it to be me; James was my best friend. I was scared."

The interrogator doesn't seem perturbed by Sirius's admission, and his eyes keep glaring at him. "And what did you find when you got to Pettigrew's?"

"He had gone. At first I worried that they'd got him, but it was too tidy and I could tell there had been no struggle. I was suspicious but I didn't know then – not for sure. I went to James'." He pauses, the images of what he saw flashing in his mind. He doesn't want to relieve the moment let alone recount the story before the court, but the potion acts otherwise. "I saw James first. His body..." his eyes prickle. "His body was on the floor. I knew he was dead from looking at him, but I checked for a pulse anyway, and there wasn't one. Further into the house I saw Lily in front of Harry's cot. I... I wanted to run out of there, but I couldn't move. I just sat and stared at them... at James."

"Go on."

"I knew somebody had betrayed them, and only one person aside from me knew their whereabouts. Peter. I was angry; angry at myself for not agreeing to remain Secret Keeper but furious at him. We had sworn we'd always protect each other, but he... I wanted to kill him."

"And did you?"

Sirius notices the interrogator is beginning to sound confident in his accusations again, and continues at a pace, the influence of Veritaserum preventing him from tripping over his words. "I left the house, saw Hagrid on the way out, and headed for Peter. It was a crowded street but I didn't care. I wanted to make him realise what he had done. I wanted to make him pay for it. We saw each other at the same time, and I ran at him, shouting, calling him a traitor. We both had our wands out, and I wanted to kill him. He beat me to it. Just before I had a chance to curse him he shouted the words. He used Avada Kadavra. I saw him... I saw him strike a finger off his own hand and transform into a rat. Not only had he been the spy, he'd set me up. After all our time at Hogwarts with me believing he was stupid, he managed that. He outwitted me and I laughed. I actually laughed. Then I looked around me and all the muggles were on the floor. Dead."

The courtroom is silent. Sirius looks to the interrogator for the next question, and sees the wizard looking lost. He wonders if he should say more, and opens his mouth aimlessly. With a minor disturbance in the courtyard the plum robes stands up. Dumbledore looks at him and he gazes back helplessly.

"Well," Dumbledore says, "Sirius has verified his story. Is there anything further you should like to ask?"

The interrogator dumbly shakes his head. "Dismissed."

Sirius feels a click rather than hears it, and watches as the tight chains around his wrists release him and dissolve into thin air. He watches as the courtroom empties in haste, leaving only him and Dumbledore.

As Dumbledore reaches his side, all he can do is gape up into his eyes and whisper his question. "Free?"

"Free," Dumbledore confirms. "Congratulations."

Sirius gasps. Still in the stone chair, he leans forwards, placing his head in his hands.

"Perhaps we should move," Dumbledore suggests, with a slight hint of amusement. "For one, despite the renowned properties of Veritaserum I think many members of this court have rather prejudiced views, and I would rather avoid confrontation. And two, I know a certain young man is awaiting your return.'

Sirius looks up, and sees Dumbledore smiling at him again, offering him something. His wand. He takes it, and smiles in return. The expression feels stiff but easier than speaking.

"Can you stand?"

Sirius forces himself to his feet, reluctantly taking Dumbledore's arm in support.

"I think side-along is preferable today. Hold tight."

Again the sickening sensation tugs in the darkness. Again he feels his legs give way, but this time a supporting hand tightens around his waist. It is dark now, and Sirius wonders how long they were in the court. Funny thing, time. Through the glow of the street lights he recognises where they are.

"I shan't come in, I think, but will be round in a day's time." Dumbledore says, gently leading him towards the door. "There are some matters we need to discuss, I'm sure you'll agree, but for now you should rest." He pauses. "Goodbye for now, Sirius, and congratulations once again."

The grip around him vanishes, and he is left with no choice but to enter. He pushes the door open. His home is familiar, warm and sweet smelling. He stumbles over the doormat just as Remus reaches the bottom of the stairs.

"Sirius."

He feels his body go limp, but instead of hitting the floor he is caught between two strong arms. His hands desperately grab at the woollen cardigan, and he buries his head into the other man's neck. He feels hands on his back, his hair, and it's too much. Too much after all those terrible thoughts, first in there and then outside, the realisation that some of it was true. And then the fact that someone is there, someone cares after everything. His eyes prickle, and he only fights it for a few seconds. The cold tears trickle down his face. His shoulders heave, and he can feel he is no longer alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews :)**

**2. Remus**

He lost track long ago at how long they'd been here for, splayed uncomfortably on the floor, shuddering and weeping into each other's shoulders. The front door, still open blows a gentle breeze. He has patted the other man, stroked his matted hair and planted kisses on it, but still few words come. He thinks that even with all the words in the world at his dispense, he would still find nothing better to say than 'Sirius' and 'it's okay.'

Gradually the shaking subsides, and he feels the grip against him loosen. Sirius moves away from him to lean against the door which slams shut. He is slimmer than before, grubbier, and his always wild hair is past his shoulders. The clothes with their distinct stripes are insulting so Remus looks past them, into Sirius' gaunt face. Even his eyes look older now, graver. They stare at each other in silence, and eventually Sirius pushes himself to his feet and stumbles towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Remus gets up as well and follows him upstairs. "Sirius?" The bathroom door slams in his face. "Look please come out, I want to... talk," he finishes uncertainly. He ponders what it is that he wants, and can't pin point a single thing. All he knows is now Sirius is here again he doesn't want his to leave, doesn't even want to let him out of his sight.

He can only imagine the horrors Azkaban threw at him, and spent many sleepless nights trying. When the news had been broken to him little over a year ago, Remus had fallen into the trap of denial. James, Lily and Peter being dead he could just about comprehend, despite the tearing grief, but it was the news about Sirius that he hadn't been able to understand. For as long as he'd known Sirius he'd been aware of the sudden bursts of anger he was prone to, but he'd also known that aside from a few cruel words and mischievous hexes he'd never hurt anyone with his rage but himself. For him to have killed thirteen people wasn't possible and Remus had believed that right away. It was the issue of Lily and James which tore at him. Sirius had been Secret Keeper, the only one able to reveal their whereabouts. Remus thought maybe he'd been tortured for information, but a memory of Sirius' determined face had popped into his mind. _I'd die for any of you. _It was only with Dumbledore's help that the two of them began to make sense of the tragic sequence of events.

"Sirius," he tries again, still to no response. "What are you doing in there?" Remus sits down on the landing and stretches his legs out in front of him. The last full moon was a week ago, and even though the initial aching had subsided he still felt stiff and aching. After years allowing someone else to help him through the full moon, getting used to managing on his own again was tough. Forget the moons; being on his own again was tough in general, especially given the circumstances. He shakes his head, forcing himself as always to stop feeling sorry for himself. He thinks of Sirius, of James, of Lily. He was the lucky one this time.

His eyes have been fixed on the bathroom door since it shut, and the waiting has paid off. With a loud click of the lock the door opens and Sirius staggers out wrapped in a towel.

"What's going on?" Remus asks.

"I needed a wash," Sirius replies in a monotonous voice. He walks past Remus, one hand on the banister for support and the other clutching the towel around his waist.

Remus follows him into the bedroom. "A year, Sirius, and that's all you have to say?" He watches as Sirius sits on the bed, automatically taking the side he always slept on. He is bent over with his back to Remus, who notices how the curve of his spine sticks out like it never used to. "Just talk to me. Please. You can tell me anything."

"Anything," Sirius mutters. "What do you want, Moony, for me to tell you exactly what it's like in there?"

The use of his nickname gives Remus hope. "Yeah. Yeah, if you want."

"Of course I don't want!" He throws himself round to face Remus. "Being shown endless memories. Terrible memories. Mum disowning me, blasting my name of the tapestry. You, that time we thought you'd died. Finding James that day, and Lily. I've seen their bodies more times than I can remember." He pauses struggling to control his breath. "I've been thinking about it for a year! I don't want to fucking think about it anymore."

Remus is silent. His heart is aching for his friends, and the things Sirius witnessed, but he is glad for the outburst of anger; the proof that the old Sirius is still in there somewhere. Slowly he walks over to the bed and sits down. He reaches across the mattress and puts his hand on top of Sirius. Sirius' hand is so still that Remus wonders if he has even noticed the gesture, but then he feels a slight movement and fingers curl around his own.

"It was awful in there, Moony." His voice is a whisper now, far from the previous shouts. "I miss James."

The grip on Remus' hand tightens and he moves closer to Sirius, so they're touching. Sirius' leans on him, silent again but shaking.

"So do I."

"And I hate all this... All this fighting and violence, and good people getting hurt."

"It's over now," Remus reassures him. "Harry survived."

Sirius sits up sharply and stares at him. "Over?"

"Over. Didn't you know?" Remus silently curses. Of course he didn't know. "Voldemort's gone. Whatever happened when he couldn't kill Harry destroyed him. For now at least, Dumbledore says..."

"It doesn't feel real."

"No."

Sirius stands shakily and heads towards Remus' old oak chest of drawers. He avoids the mirror on top, and pulls open the middle drawer, searching through it.

"What are you doing?"

"Trousers. I need trousers."

Remus hesitates. "Your cupboard's over there, Pads."

Sirius turns back towards him. "My things are still in there?"

"Of course."

"That's stupid." He heads to the other side of the room. "Stupid. You should have thrown them away, sold them. Could have got a few Galleons for the lot."

"I could have, but then you'd have nothing to wear."

"You actually thought I'd get out?"

"You had to. You're innocent," Remus says. He watches as Sirius selects a pair of pyjama trousers and climbs into them.

"Innocent." Sirius toys with the word, his eyes darkening. "Nah. If I had stayed secret keeper then James and Lily would still be alive."


	3. Chapter 3

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**3. Sirius**

Sirius is hot but shivering. He's back in James and Lily's house, their bodies on the floor as usual, but this time joined by others, by Dumbledore, Peter and Remus. Harry's climbed out of his cot and crawled away somewhere. He needs to find Harry and then everything will be okay. Harry's the key. He tears his gaze away from his friends' bodies and rushes out the house. He still cannot see Harry but he knows he's only round the corner, the next corner, the next. His journey's a maze, and soon he's lost. He lost, but chances one more corner and feels the familiar cold overtake him, but still he's sweating. The street gets narrower and the long cloaked figures float around him, ahead, above and behind. They stroke his face and he's repulsed. He reaches for his wand but it's not there and he realises it has been stolen. Without protection the dementors come closer. They clutch at his face, and he finds he has no arms to fend them off, for he is on the floor and cannot move. They suck at his face, and his body becomes heavier and heavier and more distant, more useless.

He wakes with a shout, and struggles for breath. The dementors: they're gone. He knows now that it was all in his imagination, but the thrill of relief doesn't help his breathing ease. He feels a hand on his back and he jumps.

"It's me. Remus. You're okay."

Sirius turns onto his other side to face him. He tries to swallow to rid the fear but he's still struggling for breath and he chokes. He sees Remus reach for his wand and mutter an incantation. His breathing suddenly eases.

"Bad dream?"

Sirius nods, desperately trying to prevent his body from violently shaking.

Remus lays a gentle hand on his cheek. "You're safe now."

"I..." He wants to thanks Remus simply for his presence as well as the spell that allowed him to catch his breath, but the words stick in his mouth. "Go back to sleep."

"I don't mind."

"It was a dream. A stupid fucking dream. No point staying up worrying about it."

"I wasn't intending to analyse the finer points if that's what you're concerned about."

Sirius hesitates while he considers. "It's fine." He rolls back over so he doesn't have to face Remus while he lies. "I'm fine."

"Well if you're sure."

Sirius pulls the duvet over his head and squeezes his eyes tightly shut. After a minute he feels the mattress readjust as Remus settles down, but he can tell by the pace and noise of Remus' breathing that he's not alone in lying awake.

* * *

><p>Sirius trudges downstairs to the smell of bacon, and finds Remus busying himself in the kitchen. "Morning," he says, cautiously, hoping his panic from the previous night isn't brought up.<p>

Remus turns. "Ah," he smiles. "Sit down."

Sirius does as he's told, and selects the battered old sofa. There's a few springs sticking out, but it's comfy, comfier than he's been used to. He's still too hot, used to the cold confines of prison, and the seat sticks to his bare back. He watches as Remus fills the sink with an easy swish of his wand and heads towards the sofa.

"Eat," he says, thrusting a plate on his lap and a mug in his hand.

"Er, thanks."

"No problem. You need fattening up."

Sirius takes a large bite out of the bacon sandwich. "Thought you liked your men skinny." He looks up in time to see Remus blush. Too soon, he scolds himself. Too soon.

"Well, enjoy it," Remus says, pointing at the food. He turns to walk away.

"Dumbledore's coming today," Sirius mumbles through a mouthful of bread, hoping to delay Remus' exit.

Remus hastily turns back. "He's what?"

"Said he had a few things to talk to us about."

"Do you know what?"

"Do you?"

"No," Remus admits. "I thought I knew everything he'd figured out."

"Maybe _you_ do!" It comes out harsher than Sirius intended; he feels guilty then wonders why. It wasn't his fault he was shut up in Azkaban for a year, locked away from hearing about the major changes in the world. But then, it wasn't Remus' fault either. "Or maybe he's found something new," he continues. "You are talking about Voldemort aren't you? Dumbledore must know something about why he's gone?"

"Sort of." Remus sighs, and takes a seat. "Dumbledore says he's got a theory, and... well he's not sharing it yet, but the bit I do get is that he doesn't think he's gone for good."

"Last night you said..."

"I know. And I wasn't lying. It's not like how it was. He's not here anymore, the Death Eaters are all in jail or reformed, and..."

"Reformed!"

"I know what you're thinking, and for what it's worth I agree. But Dumbledore says we have to try and trust those that have returned to our side, says people make grave mistakes, but we would be no better than them if we weren't able to forgive them."

"Forgive them?" Sirius scoffs. "After all the people they killed, tortured..."

"Let me talk." He pauses. "Dumbledore thinks Voldemort's still about somewhere in some form of existence. He believes he'll come back one day. And when that day arrives we'll need all the people we can on our side, reformed Death Eaters or otherwise."

"I don't agree."

"Tell Dumbledore, not me." Remus stands up again. "Seeing as we're expecting a visitor I'm going to go and sort myself out. Your food has gone cold."

In defiance Sirius shoves the sandwich in his mouth, and rips out a large bite, struggling to chew it.

"You haven't lost those doggy instincts then, Padfoot," Remus says softly as he walks away.

Sirius watches him leave, able to chew slower now. He has so many things he still wants to ask Remus; how he's coping after the deaths, how he's managing the full moons, why he appears to be Dumbledore's confidant? And then the more selfish questions; why he was allowed a trial after all that time, was Remus involved with that, did Remus believe he was innocent, truly innocent all along? A year ago he would have asked those questions without hesitation.

His legs are frozen for a while, but then he puts his empty plate on the sofa and traces the route Remus walked upstairs. In the bedroom Remus is wrapped in a towel, hair wet, his pale and scarred chest exposed. Sirius keeps his head down as he enters, pretending his eyes aren't taking in each scar and desperately searching for signs of new ones. As expected, his subtle exploration reveals many deep red lines welded into the body. He knows that when left to his own devices the werewolf tears Remus to bits in anger at the lack of human prey. When Padfoot's there it's easier to stop him.

"I should have been there," he blurts out.

"Pardon?"

"For the full moons. Your stomach..."

"My stomach is fine," Remus says calmly. "It wasn't your fault, Sirius."

"If I hadn't gone after Peter..."

"Then you wouldn't have been you."

"Well, I should learn to think first."

Remus chuckles. "And how many years have I been telling you that?"

They dress with their backs to each other, quick and silent, both donning the peculiar amalgamation of muggle and wizard clothes that the marauders devised many years ago.

"You good with grooming spells?"

"You want to be groomed?" Remus asks with one eyebrow raised.

"I... maybe need a haircut."

"And a shave?" he suggests. "Come here."

Sirius goes to sit on the edge of the bed. "Don't mess it up mind. Not too short, or even. Don't give me one of those bowl cuts you like."

"I don't like bowl cuts."

"Fine, whatever. I'll trust you." Sirius winces as he feels a lock of hair fall to the ground. "Thanks by the way."

"It's alright. I was hoping you'd sort your peculiar new hairstyle out sooner rather than later."

"Not for that. Well, that too." He fidgets slightly. "I meant for last night. I... I felt better knowing you were there."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for reading and reviewing :) Would love if a few of you who have story alerted/added to favourites could leave me a couple of lines too. Let me know what you think, good or bad.**

**Here's the fourth part :)**

**4. Remus**

Remus has got used to the serious chats with Dumbledore, turning over possibilities, discarding some, marvelling at others. It was weird though, with Sirius sitting between them, looking like he wasn't paying attention but really digesting each word and sulking about his lack of involvement.

"I assume Remus has explained to you the nature of Voldemort's demise?"

"A bit."

Remus feels Sirius' eyes upon him as he raises his head for a moment. He flushes. He has struggled to explain the events over the past year, not knowing where to begin, and passing on only the bare bones of the situation to Sirius. Most of what Remus knows comes from Dumbledore. While he understood things as they happened, now it's hard to distinguish facts from ideas, having been tangled up with uncovering the truth about what happened that monumental night. He and Dumbledore had wanted closure for James and Lily, and had also united in proving Sirius' innocence. It had been difficult; Peter's betrayal had been well planned, and Sirius' actions had played into that. Remus had believed him because he knew Sirius, and Dumbledore because he understood loyalties – at least, that's what he had said. They'd been the only two though, and for a long while it looked as though things would remain that way. Remus knew that they'd been lucky to have Dumbledore on their side.

"Nobody's told me where Harry is," Sirius says.

"That's because I haven't told anyone myself."

"He's okay though?"

"Yes."

"Can I see him?" Sirius asks. "I am his Godfather."

"I know you are." Dumbledore leans forward and looks gravely at Sirius. "And I hope that means you want what's best for him."

"Of course, I..."

"Then you must understand that Harry is in an extraordinary situation." Dumbledore pauses. "I am telling you this in confidence, Sirius. I have to warn you to keep this among your good selves."

Sirius nods, ferociously.

"Well then. It is my belief that Voldemort will not remain in this weakened state forever. And when he does rise again he'll want to get to Harry. As you know, he is the only wizard ever to have survived the killing curse, and we can only imagine how furious that will make Voldemort." Dumbledore sighs and strokes his beard. "I also have my suspicions that a peculiar kind of magic will compel further battles between the two."

"He's only a baby."

"A toddler now," Dumbledore says. "But I appreciate what you are saying, and I hope that if or when the day comes Harry is an adult and well prepared to fight."

Remus looks at Sirius, nervously awaiting his reaction. He shakes his head, looking as if he's struggling to grasp what Dumbledore's telling him.

"Surely this means he'll need his Godfather," Sirius says eventually.

"One would think. Unfortunately, I feel it pivotal he grows up with a blood relative for now. I know," he says, holding up his hands. "I know they're difficult. You have to trust me."

"They're as muggle as you can get!"

"There is nothing wrong with muggles," Dumbledore reprimands. "I thought you agreed."

"I do, but..."

"Good. Then it's time for a drink." Dumbledore flicks his wand, and three large mugs zoom in through the window, filled with a curious magenta liquid.

Remus takes the one hovering in front of him and nervously sips. The drink is hot, and tastes of pumpkin, cinnamon and raspberries, a curious flavour that he can't decide if he likes. He watches as Sirius attempts to ignore his. The mug nudges his knee several times before some of the boiling liquid spills on to him.

"Argh," Sirius says, taking the mug and plonking it ungratefully down on the floor.

"I'd drink that if I were you." Dumbledore's voice is tinged with amusement rather than sounding annoyed. "You need to get your strength back up."

Remus moves his gaze from Sirius, who is glaring at the floor, to Dumbledore, the latter's eyes twinkling.

"Unless, of course," Dumbledore continues, "you'd rather sit remain home than accompany myself and Remus here on a little journey we shall be taking next month?"

Sirius raises his head, but it is Remus who speaks first. "A journey?"

"Yes."

"Where to?"

"I'm not sure," Dumbledore remarks. "But like I said, we shan't be departing for a little while yet."

"You must have some idea," Sirius says.

"I have many ideas, Sirius. That is the dilemma." Dumbledore takes his glasses off and polishes them on his robes before balancing them back on his nose. "Ah, much better. As I was saying, I often find my brain full to the brim of ideas, many of them odd and completely nonsensical, but some are good, some even – dare I say it – brilliant. I just need a little more time to discover which thought is which." He pauses. "I'm sure Remus has filled you in on my eccentric mutterings during our time together." He smiles.

"Actually, about that... I know you two have been having some sort of meetings together, but..."

"You haven't told him?" Dumbledore says, looking at Remus with an air of surprise.

"I..." Remus battles for the words to explain why he hadn't been able to bring the topic it. It had seemed inappropriate and insensitive to state his role in Sirius' release, especially when the latter was still so delicate, the nightmare acting as evidence.

"No matter," Dumbledore smiles again, turning back to Sirius. "I'm sure you've gathered we've had some crucial matters regarding Voldemort to discuss."

Sirius nods.

"Most importantly though, we were trying to uncover the truth surrounding your arrest. As you can imagine, that took some doing, and even when we were certain of the facts we were troubled by how best to approach the necessary powers. Again, that wasn't easy."

"They didn't take kindly to a werewolf telling them they were mistaken about one of their most dangerous criminals," Remus adds with a shrug.

"The ministry doesn't take kindly to being told they are mistaken at the best of times. But we persevered, and gradually scraped together some people that, though still dubious about your innocence, were willing to agree you at least deserved a trial."

In the time Dumbledore pauses to take another sip of his drink, Remus dares to look towards Sirius. He decides Sirius looked intrigued and almost dazed, and feels his chest throb in sympathy. He's been finding that happens a lot since Sirius arrived home, and it unnerves him. In the past, any time Sirius was in danger of receiving sympathy he would release a torrent of complaints and insults that made the feeling edge away. It had never been enjoyable to experience Sirius in such a mood, but it had become normal and he would always mutter an apology afterwards.

"We worried at first," Dumbledore continues "that the ministry's idea of a trial would involve regurgitating the supposed facts about the night and ignoring any alternative sequence of events. Veritaserum is usually prohibited in the courts, believing it to be a breach of wizard rights, but I thought in this case it was much less of an offence for you to be subjected to it than for you to be held prisoner for a crime you had not committed. Ironically the preserved views about you worked in your favour. You see, the ministry officials weren't as concerned about breaching the rights of a wizard who they believed was a multiple murderer."

"I did wonder how I..." Sirius replies to Dumbledore. He hesitates, and chews at his lip. He's frowning slightly, a sign Remus understands to mean that he's in deep thought. "Thank you." Each word is well enunciated, as if the clearer he says something the more heartfelt it is.

"That's quite alright," Dumbledore says. "I have to admit though that it was Remus who convinced me to seek further knowledge about the betrayal and the murders. I made a serious error in listening to the Daily Prophet, something I've never done before and never will again. You're lucky to have a friend who believed in you."

"Yes," Sirius says thoughtfully. He looks to Remus. "You didn't say."

"I..." Remus notices Dumbledore looking from one to the other of them, almost bemused. "You're out now," Remus finally says. "It didn't seem to matter how."

"It matters. Erm..." Sirius runs a hand through his recently preened hair. "Thank you doesn't seem a strong enough expression."

"It is," Remus reassures him, feeling heat rush to his face. "It was worth it."


	5. Chapter 5

**I got a little distracted with another story (oops) but here's part five for you :)**

**Love the reviews, thank you! Keep reading and replying.**

**5. Sirius**

Sirius is struggling to sit still. He looks at Remus, who is frowning as he reads, a sign that he is finding it difficult to concentrate. Sirius can't help being a distraction though; his head is full of ideas, each one as exciting as the next.

"Don't tell me you're not at all intrigued," Sirius asks Remus for the fourth time.

"Intrigued? In this book: yes, in anything else right now: no."

"Oh come on, that's boring." Sirius rolls his eyes and goes to sit nearer to Remus, hoping that will make him harder to ignore. "Dumbledore wants us – you and me – to accompany him on a mission. How great is that?"

"We don't even know what we'll be doing."

"Now you're catching on," Sirius says, with a grin. "I bet it's to do with Harry."

"You heard what Dumbledore said. We can't see him."

Sirius leans over the arm of the chair to face Remus. "He said we can't take care of him actually. That's nothing to do with seeing, or... or helping."

Remus looks up from his book at last. "Sirius," he says, his voice the tone of caution that Sirius has learnt to ignore. "Just... just don't get your hopes up okay."

Sirius recoils and slumps back onto his own chair, arms folded across his chest. "Spoilsport." He watches from the corner of his eye as Remus slots his bookmark in the correct page, puts the book down, and turns to face him. "That's what you are," he repeats "a spoilsport."

"I'm realistic."

Sirius makes a noise in the back of his throat, and scowls as Remus turns back to his book. His thoughts drift back to whatever Dumbledore wants them to do. Throughout the small amount of time in Azkaban where his thoughts were his own, he was frequently bored. Bored and angry. He hopes the mission is dangerous so he has the opportunity to act like he used to, tearing around and feeling the thrill of taking risks. But then they all grew old and the dangers got far too real. He thinks of James; once his comrade in the crazy adventures, but forced to suddenly mature and go into hiding. He thinks of the loss everyone who knew James and Lily must have felt, and realises that he has to start acting sensibly too. It wouldn't be fair of him as a friend to throw his life away when they'd had theirs stolen from them.

"Remus," he says, forcing himself to speak before he changed his mind about asking the question.

"Mmm?"

"Have... Do you... Where's James' grave?" Sirius can sense he has Remus' full attention at last.

"Godric's Hollow," Remus replies slowly. "Did you want to go?"

"I think so. Have you been?"

"Once." He pauses "I can come with you if you like?"

Sirius considers. He worries about how he might react when he finally gets the chance to bid farewell to his best friend, and had only ever envisaged him being alone there. But if someone has to see him cry it's always Remus, and the comfort is usually welcoming. Plus, the outside feels daunting; he hasn't been used to the whole world being at his dispense for a while. "Please," he says. "Can we go soon though?"

"Tomorrow?"

"I was thinking more of today. Like, now?"

"Err," says Remus.

Sirius watches as Remus' thinking face surfaces, depicted by narrowing eyes and a vanishing bottom lip that Sirius knows is being chewed.

"Okay," Remus finally says. "Like now."

Sirius stands up, nodding grimly. "Do you think you could help me apparate?" He avoids Remus' eyes. "I'm sure I could," he hastily continues, "just... splinching is a bit messy, you know?"

"Of course." Remus puts a hand on Sirius' cheek, gently turning his head and forcing Sirius to look at him. "You don't need to worry about asking."

"I didn't want you to go out of your way."

Remus smiles knowingly. "I'm not. Ready?"

Sirius steps forwards and places his hands on Remus' waist as an answer. He feels one arm wrap round his neck and the other grip firmly on his waist. He watches Remus' face for a signal, and a split second before the tight, twisty sensation kicks in he sees Remus close his eyes.

They stumble as they land and instinctively grab each other's hand for balance. Sirius looks down to where their hands meet and rather than loosening the grip, interlocks their fingers, comforted when Remus doesn't pull away.

"Ready?" Remus whispers.

"As I'll ever be," Sirius replies, startling himself that his voice is equally quiet.

Hand in hand, they walk down the quiet lane. After a minute Sirius feels Remus' grip tighten, and as he realises why his stomach lurches. He had been so focused on getting to the grave that he'd not thought about where they had to pass on the way. They stop in front of the house. The destroyed top storey catches his attention first. Sirius pictures Harry's old room, knowing that was where the hole is. It was blue – for a boy, and filled with all the toys a wizard baby could ask for, many of them gifts from him and Remus.

Sirius has seen the house looking like this before, of course, but on that horrible, awful day he'd been so focused on finding his friends that he had barely noticed any other damage around him. The still and silent faces of James and Lily swim before his eyes. He focuses on the garden instead; the blackened tree only just about standing and the flowers turned to overgrown weeds.

"Lily would hate it," he says, meaning the garden. "All her hard work wasted. She planted the flowers by hand, you know? James and I watched, told her it was ridiculous. Apparently they grow better that way."

"I never knew that," Remus says softly. "Maybe we'll plant something and find out."

Sirius falls silent again. He forces himself to look back up at the half of the house that had been blasted away, feeling that he wouldn't somehow be a true friend unless he thoroughly understood the damage created that night. "They spent so long finding the perfect house."

"I know."

"But look at it!"

"Let's move on." Remus squeezes his hand again, and cautiously pulls him away.

Together they head further down the road, the graveyard looming into view. Their pace hastens as they reach it, a mutual understanding that if they don't make it there soon than their emotions will struggle to allow them to make it at all.

Remus opens the gate, and ushers Sirius in. "I know where they are."

Sirius is glad Remus is taking charge. His own brain is both numb and filled with a multitude of thoughts, so he blindly follows with his head towards the ground. Out of the corner of his eyes he can see the gravestones they walk past, and somehow it calms him knowing he is not the only person to have lost and to grieve. Then he feels guilty for the thought.

They come to a halt at the far end of the graveyard. The marble grave is surrounded by flowers, presumably from strangers to James and Lily as well as friends. Sirius blinks furiously to clear his vision and manages to focus on the headstone. Seeing their names neatly engraved hits him. He gives a deep, shuddering breath as the tears begin to trickle down his face. He feels Remus turn into him and pull him into a hug.

For a minute or so he allows himself to be comforted, but then he released his grip on Remus' shirt and turns back to the grave. With his wand he conjures some loose flowers. He mutters a short incantation and with a flick of his wand the flowers rearrange themselves into something the unmistakable shape of a broomstick. The broomstick garland floats to the ground and lays itself in front of the grave.

He turns back to Remus, and sees his eyes are also teary. "Something for both of them," he murmurs."

"It's lovely," Remus replies.

They rejoin hands and stare in silence at the grave. Sirius is silently talking to James, apologising and telling him he loves him, not for the first time. He suspects that Remus, at his side, is doing similar.

A small cough from behind them interrupts their thoughts.

They spin round to see a scrawny, horse faced woman glaring at them. Sirius glares back.

"Petunia," Remus says, in a tone of forced politeness.

Petunia doesn't reply, doesn't even look at Remus. Her narrowed eyes are on Sirius, who is just beginning to put her name to a memory.

"Lily's sister? I..."

"You!" The woman screeches. "What are you doing here?" She lunges at Sirius, pushing at his chest.

Sirius stumbles, but doesn't fall. "I..."

"You bastard!"

"Petunia," Remus interrupts. "Petunia, it wasn't him. He's been proved innocent."

Petunia stops screaming and shakes her head. "He... he..."

"Did nothing wrong," Remus insists. He pauses for breath. "We'll give you some time."

Sirius allows himself to be led away, and after a short walk feels hands either side of his waist and the sensation of disapparating.

Back at their house he sinks into the sofa. Remus takes the seat next to him and eyes him warily.

"You okay?"

Sirius nods, ignoring the empty feeling inside of him. He thinks for a moment, still in shock that Petunia turned up. He had thought she hated Lily. Then he remembers Petunia's new importance in his life. "We should have asked after Harry."


	6. Chapter 6

**Would love a review or two!**

**6. Remus**

Remus pulls the duvet tighter around himself and snuggles underneath it. Despite this he's still cold; a combination of winter falling early this year, the imminent full moon, and Sirius' blatant refusal to turn on the heating, claiming he was hot if anything.

He was dimly aware of Sirius getting up about an hour ago. Usually they rise about the same time, but as the full moon draws closer he stays in bed for longer, not sleeping, just curling up and trying to summon the energy to move. He's glad Sirius understands this and makes allowances rather than trying to involve him a crazy scheme like usual.

If he concentrates he can just about hear Sirius moving about it the room below, probably talking to himself. He's curious as to what's going on downstairs and considers straining his already overdriven senses to try and listen in. He bats the curiosity away though, knowing how much he'd hate it if positions were reversed and Sirius was the one peeking on private thoughts.

Instead, his mind turns to the night ahead of him. He's dreading it as usual, but this month another problem has arisen. They haven't talked about it yet, aside acknowledging which night it fell, but he knows better than to believe the topic won't be brought up today. Despite the continual presence of Sirius, James and Peter throughout his later teenage years, and Sirius alone during his early twenties, the last year has forced him to take care of himself, just how he had those first few years at Hogwarts. He's got used to it like that, and decides he prefers it that way. Although their research proved that none of his friends could be inflicted with the disease while in their animal form, it was still possible that the wolf could hurt them, and in the past it has. With Sirius still in a weakened state after his spell in prison and a werewolf that has been deprived of victims for a long time, Remus fears the outcome if Padfoot accompanies him.

Begrudgingly he swings his legs out of bed. He pulls on a jumper over his pyjamas and reaches for his dressing gown too. He shivers, but the cold is the least of his worries now he has decided to discuss the moon with Sirius.

At the foot of the stairs he turns and sees Sirius in the middle of the lounge. He's wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and is mid press up. Remus stands watching him for a while. As Sirius continues exercising a reluctant smile creeps over Remus' face.

"What are you doing?"

Sirius looks up and grins. He does one more press up and then jumps to his feet. "Getting my muscles back. I want to look good again."

"You look fine already," Remus says, feeling heat rise to his face, and not as a result of the many layers.

"Only fine?" He raises his eyebrows. "Besides, I've got to get fit anyway. We've got an adventure coming remember? And, erm," he clears his throat and looks Remus directly in the eye. "I know what night tonight is."

"That's what I wanted to talk about."

"Let me guess, it's not safe."

"No, it's not," Remus says, sensing the way the conversation was going and hoping Sirius had developed enough common sense to listen.

"It's never been safe, Moony, especially not when we were at school and Padfoot was only a pup. But we managed then, didn't we? No-one got hurt."

"You did that time."

"That was a one off," Sirius says, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

Remus sighs, knowing Sirius has a point. It had been after Christmas in their sixth year and shortly after an awkward encounter between the pair. They'd always been affectionate – all of the marauders had – but when Sirius started the term with a black eye and broken fingers Remus had undertook the challenge to look after him. He had employed Sirius' own tactics against him, asking the same question over and over before the latter gave in and revealed it was his mother who did it when he told her he was moving out. When they'd all gone to bed that night, Sirius had crept into Remus' cubicle, climbed into his bed, and pleaded with him not to tell anyone else the truth about what had happened. Remus had agreed, of course, and a quick grateful peck on the lips had turned into a full on kiss.

When they talked about it in the years that passed neither was certain who had initiated the kiss, but at the time Remus had thought it was him. Sirius had backed away and rushed into his own cubicle, leaving Remus feeling disgusted with himself and worried he'd ruined their friendship. True to his nature he had resolved to talk to Sirius about what had happened, but the sincere discussion he'd planned had turned into a raging argument. They hadn't spoken for over a week, but on the full moon Sirius had turned up at the Whomping Willow as always.

Remus hadn't complained about Sirius' involvement, and the night continued as usual. However the wolf must have felt differently, for when Remus awoke in the morning he found Sirius still unconscious and covered in cuts and bruises. He had alerted James and Peter, and between them they had managed to rouse Sirius. He'd groggily assured them he had been Padfoot the whole time and therefore immune to the wolf's venom, but it was clear he was hurt and they'd had to carry him back to the castle.

"What if that happens again?" Remus asks, determined to make Sirius understand the dangers.

"It won't."

"It might. You're not that strong at the moment."

"Well, this will be a test," Sirius replies, with familiar stubborn tones. "You can't stop me."

"I could restrain you."

"Unless that's referring to some kinky new moves you've got," Sirius begins, and this time they both blush, "then I'm not interested."

Remus crosses his arms. "Look, Sirius. I hate to remind you, but I've been on my own for twelve months and I've managed fine. I've got a new routine; I like it. I don't want you getting hurt and I don't need you there."

"Cut me out your life, did you?"

"What? No, Sirius, you know I didn't. Did you not listen to a word Dumbledore said..."

"Type for a guilt trip? You got me out of Azkaban, and yeah I'm grateful, so fucking grateful you wouldn't believe, but don't think that means you can tell me exactly what to do now."

"I'm not telling you what to do about anything except for this, and seeing as this is the only bit of control I have this time of the month, please let me take it."

"It's about control?"

"No," Remus says loudly, exasperated. "It's about you not getting hurt."

"I won't get hurt! I don't care if I get hurt."

"Yeah, well I do."

Sirius exhales loudly. "Fine!" He pauses, as if he is willing his voice to return to its normal volume and pitch. "Fine. We'll do it your way this month. If you can be bothered I'd appreciate it if you said goodbye before you apparate off to wherever your mystery transforming ground is."

Remus watches him march out of the room, amazed that for once he got his own way. For a moment he wonders if he made the right decision. Making Sirius mad was never pleasant, but he'd come round as always. No-one could guarantee what would happen on a full moon.

* * *

><p>He knows it is time to leave, and as always his stomach churns with both nerves and the work of the inner werewolf. His bag, which he would later hang up high on a suitable branch, is currently empty but slung over his shoulder ready to go. He supposes he'd better say bye to Sirius despite him not having said another word for the rest of the day. His bones ache as he climbs the stairs. It's a weird feeling, how he dreads the moon, but longs for the relief following it.<p>

He knocks on their bedroom door, then wonders why he should when the room's half his, and pushes the door open. Sirius is sat on the bed flicking through the Daily Prophet.

"I'm off now."

Sirius stands. "Will you be okay?"

"Of course."

"Right, well, good luck." He comes a little closer.

"Thanks."

Remus concentrates on the image of the deserted forest he's claimed as his own and prepares to disapparate. Barely a split second before the crack signalling his successful movement, he feels a tight grip on his arm. When he lands in the forest he's sees Sirius next to him. He's grinning, and it infuriates Remus even more.

"I told you not to come."

"And I told you that you couldn't stop me," he says. "I want to help."

Remus glances up at the sky. Through the topmost branches of the trees he sees that only the smallest amount of moon is missing. "Then get out of here. There's not long left."

"No."

Remus sighs, except it comes out as more of a growl. He turns his back on Sirius and hastily begins undressing, shoving each item roughly into the bag. He adds his wand to the top of the pile, and jumps, catching the bag strap as he does so on a branch. He lets go, and checks it's high enough to be out of the werewolf's reach. He turns back to face Sirius, and sees he's already transformed. The scruffy black dog nudges against his leg, and despite himself he tickles its head.

He looks up at the moon again, but doesn't need it for confirmation. His skin prickles and he aches everywhere. As each of his bones crack he gasps in pain, and soon he is on the floor unable to stand. He looks up into the dog's adoring eyes for comfort. He only gets a glimpse before the wolf takes over.


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally made some more plans regarding where I want to take this story :) so here's chapter seven.**

**I hate begging, but please make me happy and leave a quick review.**

**Thanks **

**7. Sirius**

Sirius awakes human, face down in the mud and aching. He hasn't felt this exhausted in a long time. Azkaban left him mentally drained, but physically he had been restless rather than tired. Despite the sharp pains in his limbs and stomach he almost feels happy, remembering all the times at Hogwarts and how united they had been. The feeling is bittersweet and doesn't last for long.

He rolls on to his back and forces himself to sit up. His clothes are torn, and through the holes he can see cuts and already bruised skin. The wolf had been vicious last night, but true to his word he had tried his hardest to help, and fought him off as best as he could.

He notices he is under the tree where Remus hung his bag. Using the trunk for support he stands and, with some of his remaining scraps of energy, jumps. The bag falls first time and he hooks his arm through the strap. He spins in a circle, looking for signs of which direction to go. He heads towards a demolished bush. The ground he walks on is littered with snapped twigs and leaves, the familiar symptoms of a struggle. He continues to use the nature as a trail, and is relieved when he sees someone lying on the ground further ahead.

He jogs over. Remus is naked and lying on his side, his body bruised and battered in a similar manner to Sirius' own. He waits to check the rise and fall of Remus' chest, and once reassured he is stable, drops the bag and lies down on the floor next to him so they're facing each other. He strokes Remus' hair out of his face, letting his fingers gently trail over his cheeks and foreheads as he does.

He doesn't know how long he's been there for, only that it's felt surprisingly peaceful considering they're lying on damp mud and Remus is unconscious. He's been stroking the other man's hair continuously but removes his hand as he sees Remus' blue eyes flicker open.

"Hey," Sirius says warily, unsure whether Remus is still annoyed he forced his way along.

"I was enjoying that," he replies, his voice a murmur.

It takes Sirius a moment to understand, but when he does he places his hand back on Remus' head, and continues to stroke his hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Grotty. You?"

"Peaceful," Sirius admits.

"Strange dog."

"You still mad at me?"

"No. You?"

"No," Sirius says, wishing Remus would learn that most of the time he's not actually mad, but frustrated, upset or in this case concerned and determined. "Want to go home?"

"My bag..."

"Got it."

"Then, please."

Sirius shuffles on to his knees and hoists the back onto his back. With Remus' help he manoeuvres him on to his lap, holding him tight. He thinks of their nice but shabby house, and with a crack and a squeeze they are back on their bedroom floor.

He scoops Remus into his arms and carries him over to the bed, aiming to lower him carefully onto the mattress. His tired arms give way and they both fall onto the bed, Sirius landing on top. They stare at each other for a second, recovering from their fall. Sirius thinks how lovely Remus looks even when he's sleepy and covered in mud. Then he stops thinking and presses his lips to Remus'.

Remus shudders in surprise, but soon relaxes and returns the kiss. Their mouths and tongues move against each other seamlessly for a few minutes, until Sirius gently pulls away, grinning. Shivers run down his spine as Remus stares back up at him, also beaming.

"So," Remus says. "We _do_ still do this."

"I was waiting for you to bring it up."

"Why?"

"Because you always bring it up," Sirius laughs, thinking of all the times during their seventh year at Hogwarts that Remus insisted on sitting down and discussing the extent of their relationship.

"Yet it was you who just kissed me."

"It was," Sirius says, and leans back down to continue. He plants small kisses over Remus' neck and his hand traces down his chest, before moving back up to concentrate on his lips. The slight moans coming from Remus remind him that his body is always more sensitive after a full moon and he relishes the thought.

After another few minutes it's Remus who pulls away. "I have a question."

"Go."

"Why is it that I'm naked and you're not?"

"Good point." Sirius allows Remus to pull his top over his head, and hastily sets to work on his own trousers.

* * *

><p>Sirius is woken by the feel of lips pressing against his.<p>

"Afternoon," Remus says.

The room is lighter than he was expecting, and Sirius realises that they must have slept for a long time. "I can't believe we fell asleep."

"I know. Without even getting under the covers."

"Without even having sex."

Remus laughs, but it is hastily turned into a groan as the pain hits him. "On second thoughts, perhaps it was a good thing."

"You feeling rough?"

"Always."

"I'll get you soon food. Stay right here." Sirius climbs out of bed and heads for the door without getting dressed. He can feel Remus' eyes upon him and can't help smiling.

He knows the ritual for the morning – or in this case afternoon – following a full moon. Remus always refuses to eat meat for the first few days, claiming it's too strong a reminder of what he could have devoured the night before. Sirius prepares eggs instead, humming softly to himself as he does so. He sets the food out on a tray, complete with a strong coffee for him and a hot chocolate for Remus, and heads back upstairs.

He finds that Remus has snuggled under the duvet and is disappointed by his modesty. To counteract him, Sirius plonks the tray on the bed and makes a show of getting comfy decisively on top of the covers. He looks up to see Remus staring at him bemused. He grabs a piece of bread and firmly dunks it into the egg before cheekily addressing Remus.

"I can see you watching me."

"With disgust."

"The word is admiration, Moony."

"No, no. You forget that I have a better grasp of the English language than your grunts and curses. The word is clearly disgust."

"Shut up and eat your food," Sirius says, but he's grinning.

"I will, but only to avoid being force fed."

"I would never force feed you, Moony," Sirius replies, managing to sound both mildly offended and suggestive. "Unless you wanted, of course."

"What was that word again?" Remus pretends to think. "Ah, yes. Disgust."

"So uncalled for."

"Not considering you're covered in mud and Merlin knows what else."

"So are you."

"And I'm quite happy to acknowledge the fact that right now I am disgusting."

"You're never disgusting," Sirius says seriously, unsure whether Remus is still joking or falling into one of his holes of despondency.

Remus uses the arm that isn't engaged with eating to hit him. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah," Sirius happily agrees. "But I'm your idiot."


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for all the reviews; think that's the most I've had for a single part, and they really made me smile.**

**In turn, I have to apologise for this part. Even after several re-writes I really don't like it, but please bear with me because chapter 9 is shaping up well.**

**Would love a review or two if it's not too awful!**

**8. Remus**

Remus checks the clock for the third time in the last minute and taps his toes impatiently on the carpet.

"Hurry up!"

From upstairs Remus hears a crash, a groan and the sound of a door shutting, before several thuds as Sirius runs down the stairs. He appears in the lounge and immediately slides the bag off his back.

"Um, I think I broke your lamp," he says.

"I heard."

"I'll buy you a new one. A nicer one."

"That one was nice."

"Then just think how amazing the new one will be." Sirius sidles closer and plays with Remus' belt loops. He traces his lips over Remus' cheek before pulling him into a kiss.

Remus can't help but return the kiss. "There's no time," he murmurs against Sirius.

"There's always time for this."

Remus allows Sirius' tongue to enter his mouth. His hands reach around Sirius' waist before coming to rest in the back pockets of his jeans. "The Portkey will be ready in a minute," he says breathlessly.

"Then we've still got a minute." Sirius runs a hand through Remus' hair, gently pushing their faces back together.

It was two weeks since they had kissed, and Remus couldn't quite comprehend how quickly things had returned to the way they used to be and how natural it felt to grab each other spontaneously. It was like when they'd first got the flat together and vowed to stop questioning the logistics of their situation and follow their hearts. It had been Remus that had said that, and Sirius had laughed at him and told him it was cheesy. But later that night when they'd being making the most of their new bed Sirius had whispered in Remus' ear that he'd been following his heart all along.

Remus gives him one final, determined kiss. "Get your bag." He makes sure Sirius does as instructed, but most of his gaze is concerned with a quaint paisley patterned tea cup. As Sirius rejoins his side the cup begins to glow. "Now."

They take a firm grasp of the cup, and begin to spin. Remus feels dizzy, and decides apparation is just about preferable to this. The scenery gradually changes and when the cup releases them they fall onto a mass of overgrown grass.

Remus springs to his feet and pulls Sirius up.

"Nice ride," Sirius says, dusting down his trousers.

"Ah, sarcasm," a familiar voice calls from behind them.

They spin round and see Dumbledore smiling at them.

"I've never quite felt comfortable using it myself, but I can't deny I find it fascinating to listen to."

Remus notices Dumbledore run his eyes over Sirius, give a small satisfied smile and do the same to him, thankfully with the same result.

"I suppose you want to know what we're going to be doing."

Sirius nods eagerly, "It's to do with Harry, isn't it?"

Remus holds his breath. Despite his reluctance to discuss what the journey would entail with Sirius, he has his own ideas, and none of them involve Harry.

"Not directly," Dumbledore says. "It will help him in the long term though."

"Oh."

Remus can hear Sirius' disappointment. "Is it Peter?"

"I thought you might have guessed," Dumbledore muses. "Yes, as you say, it is to do with Peter."

"And how the hell are we meant to find him," Sirius asks. "He'll be a rat now."

"A rat with a missing finger."

"So we're going to search for rats and hope that by chance one of them has a missing finger."

"Think about what we know, Sirius," Dumbledore continues, not expressing any reaction to Sirius' deteriorating mood. "Peter liked to spend his time with intelligent and powerful wizards – you two and James at school, and then his loyalties switched when he felt you were no longer in charge. Even as a rat it is likely he feels the same."

"Great, we'll just have to look out for the king rat."

"Baring in mind Peter has the mind of a human I think he'll still turn to wizards for support."

"Dark wizards?" Remus asks, grimly remembering the new company Peter chose.

"Unlikely. Those of Voldemort's followers who are still free are likely to know about Peter's animagus form. I don't think he'll risk revealing himself to them; chances are they'll be angry he went into hiding, or possibly believe he deliberately led Voldemort to the Potter's knowing he would encounter his downfall there.

"So he'll be with wizards," Remus muses, remembering Dumbledore's emphasis on Peter appreciating power, and thinking he'd be reluctant to stay with muggles. "But good wizards."

"Well that rules most the country out," Sirius says, glaring at Remus as if it's his fault they're aren't to see Harry.

"I see you're very cynical," Dumbledore says.

"I wonder why."

Remus can tell from Sirius' glassed over eyes he is reliving his unjust time in Azkaban. Every time he allows himself to wonder whether Sirius has overcome the worst of his experiences he is woken with a shout as Sirius struggles to rouse from a nightmare. There is nothing Remus can do, except hold the other man close. Sirius always refuses to talk about the dreams, and he's learnt better than to push him.

He tries to get Sirius to look at him, hoping to ease his mood, but he's staring wide eyed at Dumbledore. Instead Remus shuffles closer, shy under the watchful gaze of his old professor. He squeezes Sirius' hand.

Sirius shakes his head slightly, breaking out of his trace. "Sorry, I..." he pauses. "What's the next move?"

"Do you trust me?" Dumbledore asks.

"Yes," Remus responds immediately, having learnt over the past year that Dumbledore's wisdom is more than just a myth.

"Sirius?"

"I do."

"Each take a side," Dumbledore says, holding out his arms.

They both do as instructed, and Remus suspects what is coming. There's a pop, and his sides are squashed and constricted, then suddenly they're in a familiar looking street.

"Hogsmeade?"

"I fear we have a long journey ahead of us," Dumbledore continues, without acknowledging their apparation, "but first I need to confirm one of my suspicions."


	9. Chapter 9

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**Hope this part is okay.**

**9. Sirius**

Sirius can only stare as they approach the castle. Seven years has passed since their days as students, and while he has no idea where the time had gone, his memories feel like a distant dream. He considers asking Remus if he feels the same or if it is just him – if he's slipped back into the post-Azkaban phase where the past seemed as real as the books he used to steal from Remus. He worries about Remus' reply, and is still toying with the idea of breaching the subject when they stop in front of the wrought gold gates enmeshed with each house's symbol.

Dumbledore lays his hand upon the gate, performing a complex series of swishes with his wand before the gates swing open and they're able to enter. As ever, the castle is beautiful. Sirius remembers the first time he stepped inside the place. He had known it was special; his mother and his father had imposed the grandeur of the castle on him, insisting it was the perfect place to learn, understand and become the rightful family heir. However it wasn't the impressive decor that caught his eleven year old eyes. It had been the other residents, the pupils and teachers, all of whom were delighted to be there.

Dumbledore leads the way up the winding path. Sirius is at the back, staring at Remus' feet to show him the way. When he'd entered the castle as a young boy he'd been notorious because of his family name. Despite not being completely aware of their darkness at that point, he had been bored by the endless restrictions throughout his childhood and was happy to forget his upbringing, soon successfully creating such a reputation that his background was forgotten. After the events of the previous year he worries that yet again his appearance will cause a stir, this time not one he can so easily swerve. He knows the word of his innocence has been spread, but he's yet to see wizarding folk other than the two in front of him, and he's no clue what their reaction to his freedom will be.

As they walk he looks over the grounds. The lake is in the distance, shimmering from the winter sun, but it is what he sees in the foreground that makes his heart leap. The Whomping Willow doesn't look any more battered than it was when he saw it last, and he supposes that's because no-one other than the marauders would dare go near it. He wants Remus to acknowledge he's seen it too, wanting confirmation of all the times they spent creeping beneath it. If anything the tree holds more significance for Remus, but he realises that perhaps that's the reason why the man's head is fixed firmly in the opposite direction. He hopes – and then feels guilty – that Remus is going through the same as him; feeling happy to be back in the place where they created so many memories, but torn at all the things they've lost since then – James, Lily, Peter and their innocence.

As they stride through the school gates, Remus falls back to walk along side of him, giving a weak smile as he does so.

"Alright?"

"Everything still looks the same," Sirius replies.

"I know. I think part of me was expecting a major change; the Quidditch Pitch filled in, only half of the Gryffindor Tower left, that sort of thing."

At that moment Sirius knows Remus understands, and finally returns the smile. "Not sure which is worse."

"Nowhere to fly or nowhere to sleep?"

"No changes or everything changed."

"I think it's better this way, you know?" Remus says, turning sharply up a staircase as they follow Dumbledore. "Too many things have happened, wouldn't wish the same upon Hogwarts."

They hurry, noticing Dumbledore's already left the staircase and is continuing his fast pace down a corridor. A bunch of pupils squeeze past them at the top of the stairs. Sirius can't help but notice that their conversation stalls as the two girls at the front clasp eyes on him. He glares at them, and pushes in front of Remus to move away.

"Moony, they were staring."

"Bad time to mention that you didn't used to mind?"

"Yes, bad time," Sirius hisses, grabbing Remus' wrist.

Remus gives him the look which tells him to stop being ridiculous, and for a moment it feels as if they too are students, and plotting a prank not a mission with Dumbledore. He releases his grip.

"They're going to look," Remus says. "For one, you're bound to have been in the Daily Prophet recently, and two, who can blame the girls for giving a double take when they see someone has handsome as you."

"Now you know I can't resist a compliment, especially from you, but I hardly think these _children _are interested in an aging serial killer."

"You're not a serial killer," Remus says, matter of fact, "and please don't tell the almost-twenty-six year old that twenty five now classes as aging."

"It classes as far too old to be at school, something which I becoming increasingly despondent about the longer we're here."

"Well I'm sure most of the students are more mature than you. Come on, we're losing Dumbledore."

Through years of experience they know that the corridor is a short cut, leading to the passage on which the entrance to Dumbledore's office resides. When they reach him he's standing patiently by the statue.

"Flying Saucer," he mutters, and taps the statue with his wand. It moves to the side and reveals a narrow spiral staircase.

Both the men are familiar with the entrance, Remus having been to see Dumbledore for prefect duties or werewolf problems alongside being reprimanded for pranks with Sirius, James and Peter. Sirius struggles to think of a time he wasn't sent to the office for anything other than being in trouble.

"You two go up and make yourselves comfy," Dumbledore says. "I think you'll find some refreshments, but I can't guarantee they are what they appear. The contents of my fridge have a habit of switching ingredients; don't think they're comfortable in their own skin, awful nuisance." He smiles. "I'll be along shortly."

This time Sirius leads the way, trailing one hand along the wall to allow for the lack of a hand rail. The staircase is lit with sparse lanterns, but it's still dull and he can remember the first time he was sent up, feeling like the climb would never end.

"Reckon he was kidding about the fridge?" Sirius asks, turning to face Remus. He notices Remus' gaze, and grins. "Were you just checking out my arse?"

"No to both questions."

Although it's too dark to see, Sirius can hear Remus blush. "Don't be embarrassed, I'm flattered."

"You're also imagining things," Remus says. He climbs two steps so that he is on the same on as Sirius and they are squashed between the walls. "Not that the idea is completely unfounded, of course."

"Of course." Sirius moves in and gently presses his lips against Remus'.

Remus leans against him, and they kiss for a moment, the stone wall cold against Sirius' back. He's disappointed when Remus pulls away, but then a hand creeps round his waist, and he allows himself to be lead up the stairs. It's awkward to both fit on one step, but the closeness of their bodies is too nice to move away and walk sensibly. The landing opens, and they use the opportunity of space to fall back into each other's arms. Sirius' hands trail down Remus' back, while the latter's are in Sirius' hair, tugging gently at the roots. Sirius pushes Remus against the door, using him to open it. They stumble into the room, joined by the lips.

A small cough alerts them, and they drop each other, pulling away. The occupant of the comfiest chair by the fireplace is none other than Minerva McGonagall. She stands.

"When Dumbledore said you two would drop in at some point I wasn't expecting it quite so literally." She pauses. "Afternoon, Mr Lupin. Mr Black."

Sirius feels her eyes linger on him longer than on Remus, and he guesses what she's thinking. His seven years at Hogwarts taught him that McGonagall rarely acted uncomfortably, even when placed in unexpected situation courtesy of the marauders, yet now she looks distinctly awkward and lost for words. He assumes that she too believed he killed all those people, and now feels guilty. A voice in the back of his head tells him she should, but he ignores it and holds out his hand.

"Professor McGonagall, it's been a while."

"Aye," she says, "that it has. I trust you're both well?" Again her gaze rests on Sirius.

He nods. "Better by the day."

"Good. And for what it's worth I'm glad to hear things have been... resolved. It appears Remus here did a good job."

"He did," Sirius smiles, reaching for Remus' hand.

Remus pulls away. "Sirius."

"Don't let me stop you, boys. Considering what I witnessed upon your entrance into the room, there's no reason to get shy over a harmless bit of handholding."

This time Sirius can see Remus blush, but knowing his old professor is only teasing defiantly grabs Remus' hand and leads him over to the chairs. They each take a seat while McGonagall bustles about by the fridge, cautiously sniffing each item before selecting it.

As she carries the tray over to them over the door opens and Dumbledore strides in.

"Ah, you've sorted the drinks, Minerva. Excellent."

He helps himself to a mug, and both Sirius and Remus can't help but chuckle at McGonagall's expression when she realises her own drink has just been taken.

"Fortunately," Dumbledore begins, nonchalant in regards to the laughter. "or perhaps unfortunately depending which way you see things, I have confirmed what I intended to and now have a better idea of where our journey make take us." He sips at his drink. "Tastes relatively normal for once. Minerva, as we discussed, would you kindly take care of the school for me while we're gone?"

"Of course, Professor."

"And Sirius, Remus, are you still willing to follow me?"

They nod.

"Excellent. Then perhaps we should finish our drinks and get moving. We may have a long journey ahead of us." He takes a seat and a long slurp of his drink.

As McGonagall sighs at her empty tray, Sirius catches Remus' eye. He's certain that for once they're both as curious as each other.


	10. Chapter 10

**First of all, thanks to Lizzy0308 for being my most loyal reviewer. Hope you continue to enjoy it.**

**Finally we're at part 10; quite a milestone for me, so lets celebrate with lots of reviews ;) Seriously though, I would love a few more comments to let me know how I'm doing. To those alerts/favourites, I'm so glad you're reading, but please leave me a line or two. I hate begging, but you must have an opinion.**

**Hope you enjoy this part.**

**10. Remus**

Remus feels ground beneath his feet again, and glances around to see where the apparation has taken them. He can't see far, for they are in the midst of a thicket and surrounded by trees. He jumps as something grabs his leg, and looks down to see Sirius clawing his way out of a bush.

"Sorry," Dumbledore says, watching with a twinkle in his eye. "I tried my best to avoid the trees, but sometimes they spring up from nowhere to catch us out."

"Catch _me_ out, more like. I've got leaves in my mouth."

"And your hair." Remus laughs as Sirius frantically rakes his fingers through his dark locks.

"Gone?"

"No, come here."

Sirius grunts as Remus searches through his hair. "I thought apparation was meant to be the easy way to travel."

"You'll soon agree," Dumbledore says, "for I think that's the last time we shall apparate in a while. They are too easy to track. I don't want to find we have a welcome party when we arrive at our destination."

"Where are we heading?"

"All in good time."

Remus can see Sirius rolling his eyes, but pointedly ignores him, hoping it would convey the message to trust Dumbledore.

"For today though, I think it is important to walk as far as we can before the sun fades." He draws a circle with his wand and a fine outline of a compass appears out of vapour. He peers closely to inspect which way the arrow points, and when certain turns ninety degrees and heads off through the trees.

Remus and Sirius follow at a distance, grateful for the path Dumbledore is effortlessly creating by the branches bending gracefully out of the way.

At first Remus is distracted by Sirius' endless chatter, their visit to Hogwarts having brought back floods of memories. They talk about pranks, ones that could have gone better as well as their finest, about classes, teachers and fellow pupils, as well as lowering their voices and discussing the illicit parties held in the Gryffindor common room.

After a while the conversation dies out as their focus turns to putting one foot in front of the other. Despite being used to aching after a full moon, and although this is nowhere near as painful, Remus is unaccustomed to the pull on his muscles resulting from walking so many miles, and is grateful when Dumbledore stops in a clearing and conjures up a tent with a few whisks of his wand.

The tent is held up by two poles and a series of pegs, and Remus has a brief image of the three of them, sleeping side by side, woken by the folds of grey material collapsing upon them. Despite his reservations he follows Dumbledore and Sirius inside. The tent is much bigger than it appears on the outside, and he almost laughs at his own stupidity at believing they'd be forced to share a tiny patch of floor. They are standing in what appears to be some kind of central atrium, for several rooms surround it.

"Nice," Sirius breathes.

"I'm sure my great-great-grandfather would welcome your appreciation," Dumbledore smiles. "I never valued camping as a child, but now it is a family heirloom of which I am very fond and I'm yet to find a better travelling accomplice. That's not to belittle your efforts of course boys."

"Right now," Remus says, meaning every word, "You could tell me I was the world's worst companion and as long as there's a comfy bed through there I really wouldn't mind."

Dumbledore signals to the first door. "That's your room. I too, am off to bed. Goodnight."

Remus feels Sirius sling an arm over his shoulder, and they walk over to their bedroom, flinging open the door together.

"Bunk beds," Sirius says, his voice filled with disgust. "I was hoping to lie down together and have a little cuddle."

Remus is unsure whether to laugh at Sirius' blatant disappointment or agree with his statement, but before he has chance to decide the top bunk un-attaches itself, levitates sideways and floats down to rest beside the bottom half. The mattresses then intertwine together, creating a comfy looking double bed.

Sirius laughs. "I bloody love this tent." He throws himself onto the mattress.

Sirius grabs Remus' hands, the latter trying to remain quiet as he's pulled on top of Sirius and hands begin to work their way under his top. His lips eagerly meet Sirius', and they kiss slowly and quietly.

Remus holds his arms up to allow Sirius to pull his top over his head, expertly coming off in one swift movement. He watches as Sirius removes his own, instinctively stroking a hand down the other man's torso. Although Sirius has regained a healthy weight his physique has changed and where there were once toned muscles there are now signs of ribs jutting through the pale skin. To Remus these changes are not a disappointment, but a reminder of Sirius' bravery, of what he'd been through. The changes affirmed that they'd finally grown up, and somehow made it through the tough times, the war, the deaths.

Sirius moans against Remus' lips, his hands running down Remus' back, and sneaking beneath his trousers. A mischievous idea plants itself in Remus' brain. He gives Sirius a firm and final kiss and rolls away.

"I quite liked the bunk beds, you know," Remus says, half expecting the furniture to return to the previous form. Evidently the tent could distinguish lies.

"It's naughty to fib, Moony, and pretend you don't want me."

Sirius moves so that he's straddling him, and Remus can't help but to reach up, catch Sirius' lips with his own and pull him on top of him.

"Knew you were lying," Sirius murmurs against his lips.

"Dumbledore might hear."

Sirius laughs. "Is that what you're worried about?" He casts a silencing charm around them.

"He can see through invisibility spells, what if it's the same for hearing?"

"Well _I_ couldn't give a toss."

Sirius gives Remus a bruising kiss, before his lips work their way down Remus' chest, stopping only to nibble at a nipple before travelling lower. As Sirius' mouth and hands make their way towards Remus' hips, and Remus hears his belt being undone he starts to agree with Sirius; that apart from this, nothing else matters right now. He groans.

* * *

><p>After another long day of trekking through the woodland Remus can't help but to expect that any minute they'll discover that they have actually been walking round in circles. His muscles have become accustomed to walking but his feet, stuffed into slightly small walking boots, are blistered and sore. He doesn't complain though, deciding Sirius is doing enough for both of them. Sirius' moans aren't about physical pain; he wants to know the plan and thinks that after several days of walking they deserve to know where they are heading. To an extent Remus agrees, but the logical part of his brain says to trust Dumbledore, that the professor will reveal all when it is the correct time.<p>

As always Dumbledore is leading the way, sparing little time for conversation. Remus has learnt that they usually draw in for the night at about eight o'clock, so as soon as the sky darkens he begins checking his watch, appreciating a suggestion of how much longer they'll continue. He's surprised when at little past five Dumbledore creates a clearing with his wand and begins to unpack the tent.

"We're stopping for the night already?"

"I think it's time," Dumbledore replies, focusing on pitching the tent.

Remus and Sirius exchange a glance.

"Time?"

"Almost time. We're best to dine first."

"Will we eventually find out where this elusive journey is taking us?" Sirius asks, with a hint of sarcasm.

"This stage of it, yes."

Dumbledore busies himself in the tent, crouching over a work surface with his wand and muttering spells.

Remus and Sirius settle on the sofa. Remus is glad to finally relax, and leans back onto the other man, who in return puts his arms around Remus and rests his head on his shoulder.

"You're comfy."

"Glad to be of assistance," Sirius replies with a grin. "Think the whole mystery will unravel tonight then?"

"It's only a mystery because you make it one."

"You don't know where we're heading either."

"I know we're following Dumbledore, that's enough for me."

Sirius lowers his voice. "You really trust him, don't you?"

"Yes. He helped free you," Remus says.

It's true that the actions allowing Sirius to be released from Azkaban cemented Dumbledore's greatness in his mind, but Remus has always strongly believed in Dumbledore, from the moment he secured the necessary arrangements to allow a werewolf to attend Hogwarts. Remus had valued the marauders friendship from the start, so it didn't take long before he relented and joined in with their pranks, but throughout the seven years he always refused to be encompassed in any mischief that may alert Dumbledore. He had been determined not to let the professor down and make him regret permitting his attendance. Even after they had left school Remus' thoughts hadn't changed.

"I know," Sirius replies, "and if I thought blindly following him would repay that then I wouldn't ask any questions." He strokes Remus' hair out of his face, pausing in conversation as he does so. "It's just... nothing's going to repay it, not to either of you."

"I don't want payment, Padfoot. You being here is enough."

"For you. But this is Dumbledore; all good wizards look up to him, he doesn't need to ensure there's one extra person out of prison to do that."

"It's not like that."

"No, I know. I suppose I mean that me being innocent makes his life harder, not easier. I want to rectify that somehow, like solve whatever he's trying to do for him, make up for him dropping everything to take us Merlin knows where. I can only do that if I know what's going on. Does that make sense?"

"Sort of," Remus says, trying to replay Sirius' semi-incoherent explanation. "Sounds as if you're feeling guilty for being innocent."

"That'd be stupid."

"And..?" Remus laughs.

"Shut up, Moony," Sirius says, flicking Remus' forehead.

"Ouch."

Sirius kisses it better, causing Remus to snuggle further into his arms. Just as they've made themselves comfy again, they're called for dinner.

Again the meal is delicious, tasting suspiciously of the food at Hogwarts. Remus considers asking how Dumbledore either managed to summon it this distance or create it seemingly out of nothing, but assuming he wouldn't get a direct answer he busies himself tucking in to the food.

After they'd all finished and the dishes are magically cleaned, Dumbledore polishes his glasses before turning to them.

"As I said, it's time for me to explain the next phase for us. Or at least, for one of us."

Remus frowns. He had assumed everything they did would be together, and had felt secure in the knowledge. He looks to Dumbledore for an explanation, but his eyes are on Sirius, and Remus understands who the mission is for.

"What is it?" Sirius asks.

Dumbledore pauses. "I need someone to break into Azkaban."

"No." Sirius pales, looking round desperately, but avoiding eye contact.

"I'm not pretending it'll be easy for you, but I would appreciate it if you would consider the task."

"No," Sirius repeats, getting to his feet and banging his knees on the table as he does so. "I can't. I can't go back." He rushes away from them, into their bedroom. The door slams shut.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for such a long wait. I've been struggling for inspiration for further than the end of this chapter, and that (alongside only getting one review for the last few parts) has led to me somewhat neglecting this story. **

**I'd like to think I'll regain enthusiasm, but just in case I don't I'll once again thank everyone who has read/reviewed. Feel free to leave some more comments, perhaps suggesting ideas as to where I can take this. And if I don't write any more, at least it's a long final chapter.**

**Hope to be back here soon.**

**11. Sirius**

Sirius pulls his knees up to his chest. He knows he should have stayed to hear Dumbledore out, and expects Remus will burst in at any point to tell him so, but the thought of re-entering Azkaban makes him want to run away, and so he did exactly that. Whenever the name of the prison is mentioned he feels a shudder run down his spine, but he knows how to deal with it, and so forces himself to think of a better subject, usually Remus. The process isn't working this time though, and his brain is flooding with thoughts of Azkaban.

It wasn't just depressing in there, but torturing, every bad memory replayed so often it seemed as if the good times never happened. Every violent holiday from Hogwarts stretched so it seemed almost his whole life comprised of being trapped in Grimmauld Place, with the only breaks being similarly awful things, the reckless mistakes he made, Remus in pain, James and Lily dead.

The memories still haunt him in nightmares, but when Remus is next to him and holding him he can just about manage. He has no idea how he'd cope alone. The only thought that scares him more than entering Azkaban is the idea of what would happen if they realise his presence and shut him back in a cell.

He hears the door open, and out of the corner of his eye sees Remus enter and sit down on the bed. He can feel Remus staring at him but continues staring straight ahead.

"I know what you're going to say."

"Do you?" Remus asks, "Because I completely understand why you don't want to do it."

"But I should be brave, be a Gryffindor, and do it anyway because it's what Dumbledore wants, it's for the best, it's the right thing to do."

"Maybe. It's up to you."

"But what if I don't?" Sirius forces himself to look Remus in the eye, and is relieved to see that Remus doesn't look at all angry or disappointed in him. "We've come all this way for me just to let everyone down?"

"He should have told you before we left."

"You don't usually criticise Dumbledore's choices, Moony."

Remus shrugs and Sirius can tell that Remus is scared on his behalf. He's not sure whether that makes it better or worse.

"Does it have to be me?"

Remus nods. "He wants you to go as Padfoot."

"He knows?"

"I had to tell him, Sirius."

"That's okay," Sirius says, half heartedly, deep in thought. "When I was Padfoot in there it wasn't quite as bad, you know? The dementors don't affect him the same." He takes a deep breath to steady his thoughts. "I could still feel them, but their presence was kind of diluted. I think that was one of the things which helped me keep my head."

"If you are Padfoot all the time you're there maybe it'll be okay."

Sirius shakes his head. "I'm scared."

"I know." Remus squeezes his hand.

"I'll talk to Dumbledore, but... I... I don't know if I can actually do this."

"You can if you chose to."

"Stop being so bloody philosophical," Sirius says, attempting a grin. "Let's go and hear what he has to say before I change my mind."

Remus puts an arm around him as they head out of the room, and Sirius is reassured by the gesture. He can feel Dumbledore's eyes upon him, and sighs as he sits down.

"Sorry for running off, Sir."

"It was understandable, Sirius. And on my behalf I apologise for bringing up the subject so abruptly. I just hope I haven't ruined the chances of you agreeing to the task; I feel it's an integral part of our operation."

"Can hardly say no when you put it like that," Sirius says, scowling.

"I hope you didn't presume I was trying to employ emotional blackmail as a tactic against you," Dumbledore says. "I was simply being honest with you, as I'm sure you'd prefer. I'll explain to you what the task will entail, then leave it to you to decide."

"Okay," Sirius says, grateful as Remus' hand fights its way into his own, giving it a quick squeeze.

"What do you know about a wizard called Keaton Sinclair?"

"I know the name."

"I believe he was an acquaintance of your father's, but he is also a powerful death eater, imprisoned in Azkaban for his wrongdoings. Through a source which must remain private I have heard that even in his current abode he still manages to possess a key. It is this key which we need."

"A key to where?" Remus asks.

"That's a very good question, but until we find such key I am unsure of where it will lead us. I believe the property to which it both guides us to and allows us to enter will reveal vital information about Voldemort and his follows, including Mr Pettigrew."

The mention of Peter's name stabs Sirius in the chest, and he bites his lip to stop the torrent of rude words that enter his mind. Not only has he wanted justice for a long time, but he's wanted to have a hand in the betrayers capture. He knows this is an opportunity, but the thought of Azkaban still makes his chest feel funny. He wonders if he's meant to be speaking, making a choice, but he remains silent, for once unable to find the words.

Dumbledore continues. "As you're aware dementors sense a person's soul, and it is for that reason it has to be you who enters. As a dog they're much less inclined to feel your presence, and therefore it'll be much easier to complete the task unnoticed."

"What if they do sense me?"

"It's very unlikely."

"But what if?" Remus asks, his voice unusually firm.

"As a dog you'll be able to escape again before the ministry arrive and force you to show yourself."

"It's as simple as that?" Sirius says, forcing himself to remain calm. "If they catch me and I don't make it out in time then I'll be back there for good."

"It won't happen," Dumbledore says.

"It definitely won't happen if he doesn't go."

Sirius is perturbed by the anxiety in Remus' voice, expecting him to use his usual logic to persuade him to go. He squeezes Remus' hand. "But how would I find Sinclair? How would I get the key?"

Dumbledore fishes through his lengths of robes, pulling out a folded piece of parchment and handing it over. The paper is adorned with a multitude of lines and letters, revealing a detailed map of Azkaban.

Sirius hands the paper to Remus, who raises his eyebrows presumably surprised to see something so similar to their own cleverly crafted map. Remus squints as he searches the corridors for Sinclair. After a minute he points.

"I don't think he's as far from the entrance as I was." Sirius desperately tries to remember how long it took for him to be dragged down the disorientating corridors. "It might not take that long to get in and out."

"You're considering it?"

Sirius shrugs, but knows Remus isn't fooled. "What about the key?"

"It'll be on him somewhere," Dumbledore says, "even if it was disillusioned when he entered Azkaban the charm will have worn off."

Sirius closes his eyes, trying not to picture his dark cell and the suffocating feel of the passing dementors. "I'll do it."

* * *

><p>Sirius, as Padfoot, is sitting in a boat. Dark water surrounds him, and through his fur he can feel the cold rising up off it. He faces the prison, afraid that if he looks back toward the shore he'll be tempted to jump in and swim back.<p>

He had been heavily sedated when he arrived at Azkaban the previous year, and therefore was unaware of its external appearance. His imagination presumed the building would be sinister, looming over the landscape. Instead, he can barely see the building, only the top floor being visible. He knows through both education and experiences that the more dangerous a criminal is considered, the further from the entrance they are kept. The man he is searching for, Sinclair, is on the first of four basement floors, making him a serious convict, but not one thought to be a threat. Sirius suspects that during his stay he was contained on the last floor, the one furthest underground. From what he can remember there was never a sign of sunlight.

The boat is slow, but the gentle current propels him over the water towards the prison. They had planned the timings carefully, as without oars he needed to relay on the movement of the river, both there and back. Since Dumbledore had sprung the plan upon him they'd gone over each manoeuvre several times, as well as alternatives should something unexpected occur. Sirius replays the mission in his head, but instead of calming him it draws him to Remus. He knows Remus isn't happy with the plan, especially the lack of certainty within it. He was never happy with reckless activities in school either, but Sirius had always steamed ahead, done them anyway and won Remus round in the end. This time it's different though, and he can only hope everything goes right and he'll have the opportunity to smooth Remus over before too long.

As the boat gets closer to reaching its destination, Sirius begins to panic again. He forces himself to take deep breaths, tasting the bitter mist on his doggy tongue. Despite the worries his thoughts are masked as a dog, and he knows his human form would be in a much worse state. As he climbs out of the boat he is relieved that all of his four limbs are steady enough to keep him on his feet while he catches the boats rope in his teeth and wraps it around the provided post. His fur is damp from the weather, but as he pads towards the entrance he suspects it's not the temperature causing him to shiver. Four dementors guard the door. Although none of the familiar bad memories surface, he can feel the negativity smoother him and he does all he can to stop himself letting out a whine. Sirius keeps his eyes at the ground ahead of them and hopes for the best as he passes between the dementors.

His mind is firmly set on the task, and it takes him several steps into the eerie hallway before he realises he has successfully passed the first of many dementors. However, ahead of him there are many passage ways and he can tell there will be dozens of the creatures hidden down each. In his mind he pictures the map he'd spent so long poring over, and selects a corridor which slopes sharply downhill. He thinks of the key, imagining it large, gold and ornate. It could be anywhere in the cell he reminds himself.

He selects yet another passage and, battling the dementors' attempts at destroying his energy, weaves between them as fast as he can. Just like he remembers from his cell the walls are stone, but unlike Hogwarts they're sweaty and without beautiful lanterns to lead the way. As a dog his eyesight is good, and as an ex-prisoner it didn't take long to become accustomed to the dark. He pictures the map in his mind, grateful that one of the few things he inherited from a long line of Blacks was a good memory, and assures himself that the next passage he takes is the one where he will find Keaton Sinclair.

He counts the cells on corridor, stopping at the seventeenth. Through the rows of iron bars he can see a prisoner clad in thin stripy robes and huddled in the corner. Sirius remains for a moment on the outside of the cell, considering the man in front of him. He may be asleep or unconscious, but more likely in a state of lethargy caused by the prison. If it wasn't for the fact the sleeve of his robe had risen to reveal the imprint of the dark mark on his wrist then Sirius thinks how easy it would be to sympathise with him. He shakes the thought out of his mind, and squeezes himself, as a dog, through the bars.

Sirius stands on all fours before Sinclair, wondering where the key will be. Round his neck is the obvious place, so he places his front paws on the man's chest and uses his head to inspect.

Sinclair's eyes open and grow wide with fear.

"The Grim!"

Sirius remains silent so that it appears Sinclair is dreaming or hallucinating rather than almost accurately describing the animal in front of him. He paws at the man's neck, trying to loosen the robe so he can see if the key is there. He is pushed away by a shrieking Sinclair, who rises to a sitting position and wraps his arms around his knees. Sirius is not perturbed and returns to the man, gnawing at his robes and trying to ignore the revolting taste.

Sirius can barely distinguish what Sinclair is muttering, but his heart skips a beat when he hears the word key. He pounces on Sinclair, who falls weakly on his side.

"Have it, have it!"

Sirius nips at the man's wrist, and again at his collarbone.

"Don't... Grim."

Hoping that he is getting somewhere, Sirius continues his attack, leaving light blood trails down Sinclair's arms from his teeth and claws. At the dark mark he digs his claws deeper and is gratified to see a drop of dark blood smear the man's arm.

"I don't... want... have it, have it!"

Sirius pushes his face into the man's and, just loud enough for the two of them to hear, growls. It appears to be the last straw for Sinclair, who lets out a weak cry.

"I... I hereby reveal the whereabouts of the Key of Niretils."

Sirius sees something glowing beneath the man's robes, and uses his claw to tear them open. The key is much smaller than he expected, but he can tell from the sinister green colour that it must be the one Dumbledore wants. He rips it away from the man, and grasps it in his teeth.

The journey back seems to Sirius to be over in a flash. His mind is still with Azkaban, with Sinclair as he cried, with himself as he dragged his claws down the man's arms.

He makes his way back to the tent still as a dog with the key between his teeth. The tent is enchanted so that the three of them will always be able to find their way back, but no intruders will manage to locate it. He pushes his head against the loose flap on the front door, and enters to find an anxious Remus and Dumbledore staring at him. He drops the key on the floor transforms back into a man, surprised to find tears running down his cheeks.

"Thank Merlin," Remus says, and envelopes him into a hug.

Sirius grins; he made it, managed to face Azkaban again and make it out safely. Suddenly the pressure and worry he had been experiencing seems ridiculous and despite the flood of tears and shaking limbs he laughs into Remus' shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you so much for the reviews. It definitely has spurred me on and, while I can't promise the regularity of updates, I'm confident there will be more.**

**Short part and a filler, but at least I'm writing, right? ;)**

**The response to the last part has got me loving reviews even more, so please spare a few seconds to leave one :)**

**12. Remus**

Since Sirius' journey into Azkaban, Remus can't help but notice how much quieter the man has become. The three of them have returned to spending their days trekking through unknown fields and forests, but unlike before Sirius does as he's told without questions, and walks with a bland enthusiasm that doesn't fit right. Today, Remus is in the middle, with Dumbledore several paces ahead and heavy footsteps indicating Sirius is only slightly behind.

The silence has been worrying him for a while, but as they reach their fourth hour of walking with barely a word, he suddenly stops and turns to face Sirius. The man, surprised, walks right into him.

"Watch it, Moony," he says.

Sirius smiles, but Remus knows it is only half there and so grabs his hand as they continue walking.

"You know I always welcome having your hand in mine, but is there any special reason?"

"Does there have to be?"

"No."

They fall back in silence for a minute. The path is slightly too narrow for them both, and as Remus has allowed Sirius to continue walking down the centre, errant branches hit his side and he is occasionally forced to knock one aside to avoid it scratching him in the face.

"I'm concerned," Remus says, looking at Sirius out the corner of his eye. "You're quiet."

"I'm just… concentrating."

"On putting one foot in front of the other? Sirius, you're only like this when something is bothering you."

Remus looks at him properly this time. His eyes meet Sirius' and he knows they're both thinking back to Hogwarts, about how after a letter from home, a fight with Regulus, or a reminder of his heritage he would always retreat from himself, and the chatty, cheeky youngster would sit in the corner, arms folded and not saying a word. At first Remus, like James and Peter, had assumed Sirius was simply prone to sulking, but as they had got to know him better they realised his curious behaviour was just brooding and that it was only ever to do with his family.

"I didn't want to go to Azkaban."

"I know. You didn't deserve to either…"

"Not that. The other day, I mean. I didn't want to go back."

"You didn't have to."

"And give up on everything I ever believed in? I'm not like that rat."

Remus considers speaking, assuring Sirius that whatever his actions he could never ever sink to the levels of Peter. Instead he squeezes his hand, knowing that for Sirius the gesture would be more of an encouragement to continue.

"When I was there the first time, one of the few things that I could clutch onto was that I knew I wasn't like all the others there. I knew I hadn't done what they said. I hadn't murdered. I hadn't betrayed James. The only thing I'd done wrong was to trust a rat, and I swear on the name of Merlin, I never thought I'd be the type to trust people too much," Sirius says, finally pausing for a breath. "I was angry with myself, so angry for making those mistakes, but I knew I needed to remember I was a good person. On the whole anyway."

Remus feels Sirius' fingers squirm in his grip, but he doesn't let go. He's unsure why Sirius is telling him this, especially when the most important parts had already been discussed between them in the early days after his release.

"Do you know the difference between justice and revenge, Moony?"

"I don't know." Remus desperately thinks, trying to concentrate on the question itself rather than the suddenness of which it was asked. "Justice should always there I suppose, not that that's the case. Revenge… well, you know what I think. It doesn't solve anything."

"Revenge is an option after injustice," he says. "But then, being vengeful is hardly being just."

"That's very insightful."

Sirius laughs, startling Remus with the noise.

"Told you I was concentrating. It makes me sound like you."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Intelligence doesn't suit my beautiful face." He smiles again, but it soon fades. "When I went back there and saw that man, someone who actually deserved to be there… I got a bit angry trying to find the key, bit him a bit, clawed him, made him bleed."

"He probably deserved it," Remus says automatically.

"That's what I mean. That was revenge, wasn't it? But it wasn't fair, and I'm trying to be a good person like I thought I was."

"You are good," Remus insists, hoping his words come across with the emotion that he believes them with.

Remus understands where Sirius is coming from. When he was twelve and his three dorm mates had told him they knew his secret he had wanted to run. Instead, he had panicked, cried and, once they had calmed him down with fervent promises, agreed to answer any questions they had. It was Sirius that had asked him if he wanted to hurt the werewolf that attacked him, and Remus had been surprised. It had never occurred to him to be angry or want revenge. It had been an accident, for a start, and hurting the man who did it would only make him more like the monster and less like a human.

"Do you still never get angry?" Sirius asks.

Remus is startled by how accurately Sirius' question matched his thoughts, and doesn't need to ask what about.

"Not really."

"Well I do. And sometimes scared. And sometimes upset because of James and Lily, and because I couldn't see through that bastard."

"I get upset," Remus says quietly, "and you must know I get scared before the full." He feels his cheeks burning like they always do when he's brave enough to emit a secret. "But emotions don't decide whether you're good or bad. Actions do."

"Like hurting a prisoner?"

"Like sticking up for what you believe in. Being ridiculously loyal to your friends. Being brave enough to return to that place."

"It's enough?"

"It's more than enough," Remus says.

They continue walking hand in hand, and for a moment Remus worries that he hasn't done enough to reassure Sirius and that the deafening silence is about to return.

"You make me feel better."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Remus feels Sirius squeeze his hand before releasing it. He barely has time to miss the company before an arm wraps around his neck and chapped lips softly kiss his cheek.


	13. Chapter 13

**So, I wrote something again! And I have an idea for the following chapter which may actually include a bit of plot progression for once.**

**Thanks for the reviews :) Really does mean a lot so keep them coming; I love hearing your opinions whether they're things I've done well or things I can improve on.**

**Hope it's okay.**

**13. Sirius**

Their pace has changed over the last few days, and while Sirius is happy that the development suggests they are getting closer, he is careful to keep an eye on Remus. At Hogwarts the three of them had learnt from Remus how to read the moon, how to distinguish whether the incomplete circle indicated the full moon was coming or had just been, and how a simple crescent could denote which day it was in the cycle. Using the same skills, as well as basic logic, Sirius is well aware the moon reaches its climax tonight.

The key is still round Sirius' neck and every time they need to turn he can feel it pulling him in the right direction. Strangely, Dumbledore is ahead of them, and always correctly navigates their path before the key chimes in. He wonders how Dumbledore can be so oblivious to Remus' tiredness, the bags under his eyes and the effort it takes to continue walking. Remus still hasn't uttered a word of complaint, but as the two men walk side by side, Sirius can hear his breath falling heavy and rough after each step. He puts his arm around Remus' waist and pulls him close.

"Lean on me."

"I don't need help," Remus snaps, but he still throws his arm over Sirius' shoulder, allowing him to take some of his weight.

"I know. I just wanted you closer."

"Liar," Remus says with a smile.

"I can ask Dumbledore to stop for a break."

"I don't need one."

"But tonight…"

"It's still the morning, Sirius. I'm not even thinking about tonight."

"Now who's lying?" Sirius asks gently.

He was hoping to coax the thoughts out of Remus, knowing that he once had a knack of getting the usually private man to open up. Instead Remus flinches, removing his arm from Sirius' neck. They walk awkwardly for a few paces as Sirius desperately tries not to let go of his grip around Remus' waist.

"Stop it, Sirius." Remus' voice is weary. "Stop pretending you know everything. You've only been with me for one moon recently; how can you know how I'm feeling."

Sirius stomach clenches. He finally releases Remus and his throat is suddenly dry. "Has that much changed?"

"I-"

"Because I used to know you, didn't I? Better than anyone. And you used to agree."

"Sirius, I-"

"Despite everything that's happened I thought _we _were the same."

"We _are_, Padfoot. Promise. And I'm sorry for snapping."

"It's okay," Sirius mutters. He knows Remus' apologies are always genuine, but he still feels shaken from the initial comment and it makes him wonder. Remus was always an expert at ignoring the wolf inside him however close to the moon it was, and Sirius can't help but hope his outburst isn't contrary to that. The possibility he doesn't know Remus as well as he thinks seems almost too much to bear.

"I know you're only trying to help, it's just… I can cope, you know. I had to. And I'm not some weak little thing, who-"

"Moony, I have _never_ thought you were weak."

"Then don't mother me. I don't need it. And given the extent of our relationship it's a bit creepy."

"Hey, I like being creepy!"

"Right."

Sirius notices Remus smile slightly and he feels relieved. They continue in silence for a moment, but a question still plays on Sirius' mind and he decides to risk voicing it.

"You will let Padfoot help you later?"

"I suppose."

"Then why can't I help you now?"

"Because I'm me now," Remus says quietly. "While I'm able to fight it I still have every intention of doing so."

"You didn't used to mind."

"I grew up."

"Oh," Sirius says, unable to think of a better response. Despite Remus insisting he doesn't want mollycoddling, Sirius likes taking care of him. As he is unable to rid Remus of his monthly torture he wants to do all he can to make it easier for him. He's felt that way since he found out about the condition, and is certain the desire will never change.

Sirius lets Remus put his arm back around him and returns the gesture.

"I didn't want to upset you," Remus says. "I still like a cuddle."

Sirius smiles and pulls him tighter.

* * *

><p>Sirius doesn't think he's been this angry since he was still living with his parents and in constant battles about which wizarding side he should take.<p>

"You don't understand. I have to go with him."

"Remus can manage perfectly well on his own."

Sirius' gaze flickers to where Remus is sat on the sofa, hunched over and head buried into his knees. He knows Remus will not appreciate his tactics for the argument, but has decided the end result is more important. "No he can't. He'll attack himself, get hurt."

"Any injuries I can easily tend to in the morning."

Dumbledore's voice remains calm and it irritates Sirius further.

"But if I'm there with him he won't get any in the first place."

"And unfortunately it may be your blood shed instead."

"So what? It works better that way."

"Without meaning to sound callous, Sirius, this is no time to risk getting hurt. You are far too valuable at the moment."

"So is Remus," Sirius responds in an instant. He refuses to believe that Dumbledore, supposedly the greatest wizard of their time, seems to care so little about someone's welfare. And not just anyone, either.

"You've got the key," Remus mutters from the sofa, looking up for the first time since Dumbledore began telling them about the plan for tonight.

Sirius' stares into Remus' eyes, willing him to back him up, to plead for him to be there. He does neither.

"Then I'll get rid of the key."

"You're it's true master now," Dumbledore says, still matter of fact. "It won't respond to anyone else, and we won't be able to complete the task."

"You know the way."

"Merely guesses. I assumed if I made an incorrect one you would have the foresight to inform me of the key's correction."

"Well guess some more and let me go tonight." Sirius' desperation is increasing by the minute, and he decides that if Remus isn't going to beg he'll have to do it for him. "Please, Sir. Please."

"I'm sorry, Sirius. The decision has been made."

Sirius releases a large groan and stomps out of the tent, peering through the darkness into the forest around him. Dumbledore had assured them both that there was nothing out there that the wolf could hurt, or vice versa, but his word isn't enough.

He feels a hand touch his back, and speaks without looking round. "You should be resting."

"It got slightly more difficult when you started shouting."

"I had a reason."

Sirius wishes Remus would agree with him and say it's unfair that Dumbledore won't allow it. Even a mention that he would prefer them both to be there tonight would be enough, but he knows it isn't in Remus' nature to disagree with a voice of authority.

"You can come and find me in the morning instead. You can help me then."

"I want to do more."

Remus' hand creeps round his waist and Sirius feels Remus' lips brush against his cheek.

"I'll have to go soon. Dumbledore said to start as far away as I can. Then he'll cast a new spell around the tent so the wolf won't be able to find it."

"I'll walk with you," Sirius says. He glances bitterly back to the tent. "That's if I'm _allowed_."

Hand in hand they walk through thickly grown hedgerow, occasionally stumbling over knotted weeds. Sirius feels Remus' grip tighten and he stops.

"This will do."

"Perhaps I should stay anyway. There's nothing Dumbledore can do now."

"I'll be fine," Remus insists.

Sirius watches as Remus undresses, collecting the clothes as each item is removed. When Remus has finished he squashes the clothes under his arm so he can fully embrace him.

"You need to go."

"Don't want to," Sirius mumbles into Remus' neck, gently kissing him there.

"I know. I love you."

"Love you."

They kiss tenderly, until Sirius is pushed away and he unwillingly leaves.

* * *

><p>He refuses to talk to Dumbledore when he gets back, but opts to sit in the same room anyway, reluctantly appreciating the silent presence.<p>

At first it is quiet outside, but as the night progresses he begins to hear howls echoing in the wind. He draws his knees to his chest and tightly pulls his arms around himself, fists clenched. His eyes are closed, imagining the scene outside. He's seen the wolf attack itself before and the damage it has done to Remus. With each howl he pictures another vicious swipe, another scar, and he almost convinces himself he can hear Remus too, crying out in pain.

It is almost worse when it goes silent though, imagining an unconscious body, someone who has had enough. Just as he is tempted to break Dumbledore's rules and flee the tent, the howling starts again, closer this time. Sirius walks over to the tent door, sits on the floor and peers through the flaps. The cold wind creeps through the gap in the tent, making his eyes water. There's another howl, a scuttling noise, and Sirius gets a fleeting glimpse of the wolf before the boundaries send it in the opposite direction. In the dark he was unable to check for wounds, but seeing it alive and energetic gives him hope. Despite this, he remains seated on the floor, so the moment the moon goes down he can go and find Remus.

He ignores the cold chill, focusing on listening out for the wolf. After several more patches of howling broken by deathly silence, the moon finally disappears. As Sirius stands he can hear Dumbledore calling telling him to give it a little longer, but he doesn't pay attention, knowing through experience when it becomes safe.

Sirius runs through the forest, calling for Remus despite knowing it's unlikely he'll be able to reply. It's a tricky journey, having no obvious landmarks to show if he's going in circles or getting nearer to Remus. He looks instead for damaged bushes, but the multitude of crushed plants only worries him further rather than aiding him.

He sees Remus' ankle first, bloody and sticking out from being a prickly bush. He's naked, face down in the mud and covered in scratches. Sirius crouches by his side, and gently puts his palm on a small uninjured bit of his back.

"Remus? Are you okay?"


	14. Chapter 14

**It's been so long since I updated this. Scary how time flies! I'm not sure if any of my previous readers are still interested or if I'll get any new ones, but I always hoped to finish this, and it suddenly found a new lease of life.**

**So here goes. Hope it's okay. Would love a review or two :)**

**14. Remus**

Remus blinks and Sirius' face comes into focus.

"Thank Merlin, Moony," Sirius says.

Remus notices the other man is shirtless and he searches for the material. As expected the top is bundled in Sirius' hands and pressed firmly again Remus' chest. He struggles to see the extent of the injury from the angle he's lying at but can make out that the top is covered in blood.

Sirius is shaking. "I don't know what you've done, Remus, but I can't stop it bleeding. The spell, it's not strong enough."

Remus exhales. "Try again."

Sirius nods. He removes the wad of material stemming the bleeding.

Remus feels a stab of pain, sees a squirt of blood spray across Sirius' face and hears his friend swear. He tries to say something, anything, but instead cries out. The shirt is shoved back against the wound before Sirius even has a chance to cast the spell. Sirius' face is blurry but Remus can still see he's frantic with fear. He wants to tell him that it'll be okay but his head is heavy and the world is turning black.

This time when he wakes he's comfy and warm but the pain from his chest is still hard to fight through. He groans slightly, eyes still shut, and feels a hand against his cheek.

"You awake?"

"Uhh," Remus says. He feels Sirius' breath on his forehead and then his lips.

"Gonna open your eyes for me?"

Remus grunts in disgust but cracks his eyes open and squints up at him. He gets his reward in form of a grin from Sirius.

"That's better."

"Want to sleep, Pads."

"I know, I know. Sleep soon, promise. Just need to make sure you're okay."

Remus attempts to nod but his eyes flicker back shut.

"Moony," Sirius warns, "I just need to hear the words."

It feels like too much effort to open his mouth so Remus continues to lie still and silent.

"It was a bad one," Sirius says, his voice breaking slightly. "I was so scared."

Even in his condition, the fear in Sirius' voice startles Remus. He looks at his friend. "I'm okay, Sirius."

"Yeah?" Sirius takes his hand. "Thank you, that's all I needed. I'll leave you alone now."

"No," Remus says, surprising himself at how quickly the words came out. "Lie with me."

Sirius doesn't bother to undress but climbs over Remus and curls up alongside him.

Remus is alone the next time he wakes up. The pain is still present but has transcended from the sharp pain in his chest to a distant dull all-over ache. It's a much more manageable pain and he feels further strength in his limbs than he had previously. He pushes himself into a sitting position and moves his legs over the edge of the bed. He's somehow in his pyjamas now. They feel unclean but for once he can't be bothered to change. Instead he struggles to his feet and leaves the bedroom, towards the voices he can hear.

Dumbledore spots him first as Sirius' back is turned. He greets him warmly causing Sirius to spin round and Remus' blood to turn cold. Starting at Sirius' jaw line and running down past the collar of his shirt is a long, bloody scratch.

"Moony," Sirius says, but he sounds strange.

Remus pushes the unusual tone to Sirius' voice to the back of his mind, raising a hand and pointing at the injury. "Was that..?" He says, unable to voice his first thought that the wolf had done it.

"No," Sirius hastily replies. "Merlin, no." He reaches Remus and takes his hand, leading him back to the sofa. They sit down together. "Remus, the moon was over a week ago now. It wasn't the wolf."

Remus studies Sirius' face for signs of a joke or a lie. "I've been out for a week?"

"Mostly."

Remus frowns. His injuries hadn't been that severe since the first few full moons after Sirius' arrest, before he started taking action to free the other man.

"I _said_ I should have been with you," Sirius says.

It's clear from Sirius' voice that he's still bitter about the matter and so Remus interrupts. "I'm okay."

"Now."

"And that's all that matters." Remus tucks Sirius' hair behind his ear and gently traces the scratch. "What happened?"

"Somebody knows we are here," Dumbledore says, grimly. "It appears that the disappearance of the key from Keaton Sinclair's cell has not gone unnoticed as we had hoped." He sighs. "Unfortunately that instigates the notion that someone has access both to Azkaban and the outside world."

"Who?"

"I cannot be sure," Dumbledore continues. "And I don't feel it imperative that we know who, only that there is someone. It is more important than ever that we move forward in this task."

"And I've been holding you back," Remus says.

In the time it takes Dumbledore to polish his glasses Sirius doesn't once look at Remus.

"You are not a liability," Dumbledore replies.

"That wasn't what he said," Sirius spits, shocking Remus with the venom in his voice.

"I know." Dumbledore stays as calm as ever. "But I don't want Remus to have any doubt in his mind that we want him alongside us in this mission. Do you agree?"

"Of course _I_ fucking want him here," Sirius says.

"Of course. But Remus, while you were recovering, I did need to take action. There are still many questions I need answering and we have a long journey ahead of us. I made a grave error in judgement believing the dark prisoners in Azkaban would have no contact with free dark wizards." He sighs again and looks at Sirius. "Had I known there were others after the key I would have stuck by Sirius' side. As it was, I sent him to investigate which path the key would take us next."

Remus has rarely seen Dumbledore look so remorseful. Sirius, however, still looks unblinkingly angry, apparently unable to see the regret across the old Professor's face. He takes Sirius' hand and squeezes it. "You were attacked?"

Sirius exhales. "A slicing spell came out of nowhere. I apparated back here before I could see who sent it."

"Let me see."

Sirius undoes the top few buttons of his shirt and pulls the material aside so Remus can see that the wound trails most the way down Sirius chest, stopping somewhere on top of his heart.

"Pads, that looks nasty."

Sirius roughly fastens his buttons. "It'll fade."

Remus nods, still concerned. He turns back to Dumbledore. "What's next then?"

"I don't know," the wizard says, looking pointedly at Sirius.

Remus follows the silent exchange. "What's going on?"

There's a moments silence before Dumbledore speaks. "Before Sirius was attacked he did manage to learn from the key where our journey should take us."

"Good," Remus says.

"Indeed. Except Mr Black refuses to tell me where."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi,**

**First of all a massive thank you for the reviews for both the last part and previous chapters. It means a lot and has encouraged me to continue writing this. Secondly, apologies for the wait. I've had this chapter almost finished for a long time but didn't want to publish it until I had written a good proportion of the next one as well, so I could edit where necessary.**

**My worries with this story is that I'm over-thinking things, that I'm making the plot too complicated and that people won't want to read. Any thoughts? I've seen other stories where the author has written a quick synopsis at the top of each chapter. Would that help? Or am I doing okay plot wise?**

**Anyway, I'll pipe down for now and leave you with the story. Hope you enjoy and, as always, reviews are loved and much appreciated.**

**15. Sirius**

Forbidden from taking a walk, Sirius does the exact opposite and locks himself in the bathroom as he attempts to clear his head. He sinks to the floor and brings his knees up to his chest. He has tried removing the key from around his neck several times now, but each attempt is flawed. Just as he moves to take the cord over his head his throat tightens and he cannot breathe until he drops the object, allowing it to remain on his person.

He has not told the others out of a combination of fear and shame. He fears how much he wants rid of the key and fears the fact he can't do so. Bursts of anger overtook him on several occasions while Remus was unconscious and he is still struggling to keep the mood swings in check. He was an angry boy, learning to control it as a teenager thanks to his friends. He is ashamed that the will power is rapidly vanishing.

He hears Remus knock on the door but doesn't open it.

"Padfoot," Remus says. "I love you."

Sirius swallows, trying desperately not to cry. He still doesn't speak.

"Are you going to let me in?" Remus continues.

"No," Sirius says. He doesn't trust himself to say anything longer.

"Okay."

"Really?"

"No. But there's not much I can do from this side of the door, is there?" Remus pauses. "I thought you might want to see me, though. You know, with me having been unconscious for the last week."

Sirius sniffs. "I do."

"Let me in, Pads."

Sirius doesn't say anything but twists the key in the lock and shuffles out the way.

Remus steps in, locks the door again and sits down next to Sirius pulling him into a hug. "Tell me what's going on, Sirius? Why you won't tell Dumbledore where to go?"

Sirius doesn't answer the question. He isn't even aware he is planning to speak until the words are out of his mouth. "I can't take the key off."

"What do you mean?"

"It's _doing_ things to me, Remus. I can't think straight. And I feel so _angry. _I think- I think the key hates Dumbledore."

Sirius can feel Remus staring at him. "What do you mean, you can't take it off."

"Try," Sirius says. He sits still as Remus fishes beneath his top and grabs the end of the key. He lifts it and just before it becomes level with Sirius' throat he feels the familiar block. He struggles for breath, collapsing forwards and retching with the efforts to breathe. As Remus drops the key he feels air rushing back into his lungs. He waits until he regains composure and then speaks shakily. "Happens every time."

"I don't like it," Remus says. "That's dark magic."

"You don't need to tell me that!"

"Tell Dumbledore."

Sirius' eyes cloud. "No."

"You don't trust him anymore," Remus says. It's not a question.

"I told you, it's the key."

"But if you know it's the key then you know these thought aren't rational." Remus puts his hands either side of Sirius' head. "Come on, you're stronger than this."

Sirius pushes his hands away. "You don't understand! You've seen for yourself. When I was hit by that slicing spell it cut from my chin to my chest. No gaps. But the cord didn't cut. The cord won't cut and I can't take it over my head. It's won't go. It's in control."

"No, Sirius. No it's not."

Sirius lets out a noise of frustration.

"The sooner we complete this task the sooner you can get rid of the key. But for us to do that you just need to tell Dumbledore the next place we need to go to."

"You're not listening. I can't get rid of the key. I'm stuck with it."

"There'll be a way." Remus sighs. "Look, I'm telling Dumbledore."

Remus stands and Sirius instinctively lunges for his leg, clinging as strongly as he can.

"What are you doing?" Remus says, a look of pure surprise on his face. He doesn't fight, but awkwardly crouches down next to Sirius.

Sirius feels as if his head is spinning. "I don't know."

Remus grabs his face again but this time kisses him firmly on the lips. "It'll be okay. Promise." With that he exits, leaving Sirius alone on the bathroom floor.

* * *

><p>Hours later Sirius finds himself being told to sit down and stay still as Dumbledore casts numerous diagnostic spells over the key.<p>

"You should have told me as soon as you realised," he says.

Sirius doesn't reply. His leg is twitching, wanting to get away.

"Will you promise to let me know if anything further develops?" Dumbledore asks.

"I'm not agreeing to anything," Sirius spits. He tries to stand but Dumbledore's puts hands on his shoulders and forces him back into his seat. "Don't!" Sirius says and Dumbledore releases him. He can't look the older man in the eye. "Don't touch me."

"Sirius, I understand-"

"No, you don't."

"That key is evidently an heirloom, enchanted by Lord Voldemort. We both know that I, alongside young Harry of course, am one of his strongest nemeses. Dark magic works in mysterious ways and I am certain some of Voldemort's hatred towards me has worked its way into the key and in turn into you."

"I don't hate Harry."

"Then that suggests the key was made before Voldemort himself felt that way towards Harry," Dumbledore continues. "I know it's hard but you need to keep fighting it, Sirius."

"I don't need to do anything you tell me," Sirius snaps. He looks Dumbledore in the eye but the gaze is too much and he ends up burying his head in his hands. His chest aches. There is a voice somewhere in the back of his mind feeling remorse, telling him he's wrong. It's a voice so easy to ignore in favour of the prominent feelings but the part of him that's still him knows he has to try. "Sorry," Sirius mutters. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," Dumbledore replies. "If you'd rather talk to Remus than me, that's also understandable."

Sirius remains in the same position talking into his arms. "What if I do something bad?"

Dumbledore sighs. "You're lucid now, Sirius. You just need to keep clinging on to that. You're stronger than you think you are."

"I'm _trying _to fight it," Sirius says, as if he realises it for the first time.

"Keep trying."

"It hurts."

"I know it does, Sirius. I know." Dumbledore pauses. "I'm proud of you."

Sirius scoffs. "You just want me to tell you where to go."

Dumbledore doesn't deny it. He strokes his beard as if deep in thought but rather than replying with a meaningful sentiment he simply says, "And are you going to?"

Sirius clenches his jaw.

"Please, Sirius." He hesitates. "For James. For Harry."

Sirius flinches. His best friend's death still haunts him more than he admits. It hurts too much to talk about and Dumbledore reciting their names is a shock. He clenches a fist and curls his other hand around the wrist, his nails making small indents in the skin. "For them," he says, "not for you." There is another pause where Sirius fights with his instincts with rationale. He closes his eyes. "I can take us there."

"Thank you," Dumbledore says. He moves as if to shake Sirius' hand but then thinks better of it and leaves the young man to his thoughts.

Once Sirius is alone he suddenly feels violently sick and vomits messily onto the carpet. He's sure it's a result of betraying the key. He pulls out his wand and quickly clears away the mess before anyone else can see that the sick is not of a normal colour, but of a dirty, deathly black.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks to those who reviewed/alerted :)**

**Longer chapter, slightly melodramatic. Not sure if that is a good or bad thing, but it moves the plot on quite a bit. As always, I update regardless of reviews, but they are always lovely to get and spur me on. So if you have anything to say, however small, please let me know.**

**16.**

**Remus**

A few nights later Remus wakes to find Sirius sitting bolt upright in bed, hands splayed by his side and staring unblinkingly at what Remus can only see as the side of the tent.

"You alright, Pads?" He asks. There is no response from Sirius so Remus sits up, wipes a bit of sleep from his eye and shuffles closer to the other man. Remus peers into his face and sees deep bags under his eyes and a completely vacant stare. "Sirius?"

Again there is no response so Remus gently taps his cheek. When this fails to rouse him Remus slaps him instead.

Sirius shakes his head slightly, as if waking from a stupor. He blinks and looks at Remus, seeing him for the first time.

"Nightmare?" Remus asks, cautiously. He's used to Sirius' nightmares from the times shortly after his release from Azkaban but they usually involved screams and shouts rather than a silent kind of fear.

Sirius releases a breath which sounds like he's been holding for a long time. He shakes his head again. "Dunno."

Remus fights the urge to take Sirius by his shoulders and force him to lie back on the bed and relax and instead places his hand over the top of Sirius'. "What do you remember?"

"Darkness," Sirius replies instantly. "Fuck." He exhales. "It's the key."

"You think?"

Sirius moves at last, to turn to Remus, eyes wide and pupils massive. "You do believe me Remus, don't you?"

"I think it's farfetched, but you know what you're feeling better than I do. And I believe _you_."

"I need to get it off," Sirius says and clenched the key in one fist. "You do it. Don't stop whatever happens." He takes Remus' hand and forces it around the key. "Do it."

Remus tries to let go but Sirius' hand is tightly wrapped around his. "It'll _kill_ you."

"It might not."

"Sirius, I'm not risking losing you on a 'might'."

"Then I'll do it," he says. He pushes Remus away and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He takes a deep breath. "One quick movement." He grabs the pendant with both hands and moves to lift it over his head.

"No," Remus jumps on the other man from behind, reaching round his back to grab his wrists. They are evenly matched in strength and wrestle for a minute. Remus manages to tear one hand away from the key but it takes all his strength, allowing Sirius to lift it with his other arm.

Sirius begins gasping as the key reaches throat height but continues moving determined to get it off. The lack of Oxygen proves a weakness though, and Remus is finally able to gain control of the other arm, locking both of Sirius' arms behind his back. As his breath returns he begins to struggle again, fighting against Remus and crying out.

Remus persists, using all his strength to keep Sirius close to his chest. "I'm not letting you do this," he says.

The words seem to act as a cue and Sirius sags against him. Remus knows his friend better to release him immediately so keeps a tight grip but plants repeatedly kisses along his neck as a thank you. It's only when he hears Sirius sobbing that he lets go.

Sirius moves round in Remus' arms so they are face to face, lying awkwardly on the bed with their feet hanging off the side.

"It was just blackness, Moony. And anger."

"The dream?"

"Wasn't a dream."

Remus wipes the tears away from Sirius' face. "You scared me!"

Sirius buries his head in Remus' neck. "Just want it to go."

"I know. I know."

* * *

><p>The last few days of the hike have been led by Sirius, now that Dumbledore is clueless of the way. He's been walking a few paces ahead, refusing to speak to his old professor in any more than monosyllabic answers when absolutely necessary. Today, however, Remus purposely drops even further behind so he can speak to Dumbledore about what Sirius went through the previous night.<p>

"Is it true, then?" he finishes. "The key _is _controlling him."

Dumbledore nods, gravely. "To an extent. I'm sure you're far from oblivious to the mood swings he's been facing. It seems sometimes the key has more control than others. For example, he's experiencing reactions of extreme anger around me, but I've seen the two of you together acting almost normal. There are periods of lucidity and periods when Sirius is far from himself."

"Is it dangerous?"

"That's broken down in to two categories; is the key dangerous to Sirius and is Sirius himself a danger. Neither answer is a simple one. The key's powers are still unknown and mysterious magic is always more of a threat than familiar spells. I'm afraid I'm inclined to say the reactions are going to get worse."

"But he can fight it?"

"It's going to become harder."

Remus looks away from Dumbledore, focusing on Sirius retreating back. The view is becoming blurry as Remus' eyes cloud with tears. "We have to get him back."

Dumbledore sighs. "I know it's difficult, Remus, but we need to complete this task first."

"And how long will that take? So long that he's unrecognisable?"

They walk for almost a minute before Dumbledore replies. "I only wish I knew."

Remus catches up with Sirius and greets him with a smile. Sirius stares at him blankly.

"Alright?" Remus asks.

When he talks his voice is slower than normal and comes out at barely above a whisper. "I think I've done something stupid, Moony."

"Nothing new," Remus jokes, but it hangs awkwardly in the air. "What?"

Sirius' shoulders quiver. He stops walking and grabs Remus' arm. "I've been leading us the wrong way." His grip tightens and he suddenly vomits onto the mud.

Remus feels Sirius' body grow heavier and he puts all his effort into holding the other man up. What scares him more, however, is the unnatural colour of the sick. "Sirius," he says, lowering him onto the ground and trying to avoid the mess. "Are you..?"

Sirius groans but nods his head. "I'm okay. The key – can't betray it."

By the time Dumbledore reaches them Sirius has regained some composure, but is yet to make an attempt to stand. The professor crouches next to them. "Sirius?"

"Don't look at me," Sirius snaps.

"We've been going in the wrong direction," Remus tells Dumbledore. He squeezes Sirius' hand. "Can you let us know where we made the mistake?"

"Everywhere," Sirius says. He heaves again, black bile hitting the floor. He swears. "Hurts."

"You need to tell us," Dumbledore says, impatient for the first time.

"Don't you understand that I can't!"

"I asked you to get the key because it is a fundamental part of the plan. Don't let your bravery sneaking into Azkaban go to waste."

Remus watches the other man intently. Sirius shudders before finally meeting his eyes. He holds the gaze, noticing how Sirius pupils are dark and wide.

"I'll take _you_," Sirius says to him. "Just you."

There's a long pause, where Remus waits for Dumbledore to object, to speak, to do something. But when the silence continues Remus knows the old professor is willing to accept the proposal.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Remus asks, the words breaking his heart.

Sirius visibly flinches. He fingers the key. "You've always been able to trust me."

"Even with that around your neck?"

"I promise, Remus."

Remus tightens his grip on Sirius' hand but the man pulls away as he vomits violently.

Sirius sways and his hand hits the floor to keep himself in a sitting position. He takes several deep breaths. "We need to go soon, Moony."

Remus manoeuvres Sirius' arms to around his own neck and helps him to his feet, trying to ignore the smell emanating from the mess on the floor. "Are you safe to apparate?"

"Think so."

"Remus," Dumbledore interrupts. "There's a book. Make sure you find it. And get back to Hogwarts if you can."

Remus nods, wanting more information, but Sirius is tugging at his wrist and he knows it's time to go. His insides constrict as they apparate. They land and Remus barely has time to take in their surroundings before Sirius crumples to the ground. As his senses return the sound of Sirius' groans send shivers down his spine.

He drops next to him. "Sirius? Padfoot?" He brushes Sirius' hair back from his face. "Speak to me."

Sirius clenches his jaw. "Inside," he says.

For a moment Remus doesn't understand, but then he remembers where they are and where they need to go. The alleyway is dimly lit, with a simple wooden gate only just visible thanks the sole streetlight.

Sirius whimpers. "We need to go inside."

The gate looks lightweight but when Remus reaches out to push it a burning sensation shoots through him, from his fingertips all through his arm.

"Moony," Sirius says.

Remus helps him to his feet and puts all his strength into holding Sirius upright as they return to the gate. Sirius grasps the key, hissing loudly from the pain, and holds it out so the end of the key touches the gate. A hole burns through the wood, increasing so the whole gate disintegrates in front of them, revealing a highly decorated front door. Again, Sirius holds the key out, reaching for the lock. The procedure takes much longer than it should as it's interrupted by several bouts of sickness. Sirius's hands are quivering and Remus can barely reach due to holding the other man up but they eventually manage to unlock the door and stumble through to the corridor.

Sirius slumps to the floor. "Are we alone?"

Remus casts a few spells to find out. "Think so. You okay?"

"Hurts," Sirius says, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes.

"The quicker we find this book the quicker we can get out and get help," Remus says. "The key giving you any ideas where it might be?" He looks to Sirius and jumps to his feet, instinctively pointing his wand directly at Sirius' face. The latter's eyes are entirely black.

"Get out," Sirius says, his voice loud and only sounding partially his own.

"No." Remus doesn't move his wand hand but edges slightly closer. "Sirius, come back to me."

"Get the fuck out."

"Padfoot, please."

Remus holds his breath as Sirius blinks several times and his eyes slowly fade back to their natural colour. He stares at Remus in surprise.

"Moony?"

"Give me your wand," Remus demands.

Sirius gives a brief shake of his head. "What, why?"

"Just do it."

Remus snatches the wand as soon as Sirius holds it up to him and stashes it away with his own. He kneels on the floor next to Sirius and puts his arms around him. "I'm sorry, Pads. The key overtook for a moment, I can't take any chances."

"I don't remember."

"Can you tell which room the book is in?" he repeats, releasing Sirius from his grasp.

He frowns. "Third floor. I-" He vomits again, the black bile splashing his chest. "I dunno which room." He groans loudly. "I can't- Remus- Just get it."

"No, no, come with me."

Sirius lets out a cry of pain. "Can't move."

"I'll be as quick as I can," Remus says. He plants a kiss on Sirius' cheek, only narrowly missing the sick, and dashes up the stairs.

Each landing has several doors spanning from it but Remus ignores them all until he reaches the third and final floor. He flings open each door in turn and starts with the largest. He tries to magically summon the book but isn't surprised when nothing comes to him. He starts to muggle search instead, peering into boxes, behind cabinets and beneath furniture, always cautious in case the items are cursed.

He's in the third room on the third floor when he feels a presence behind him. He turns to see Sirius, white as a sheet, arms splayed and black trickling from his mouth. Remus' fingers curl around his wand. "Sirius?"

"Get out of here," Sirius says, in the same metallic voice as before.

Remus gulps. "So it's in here then? The book?"

"Don't mess with things that do not concern you."

Remus can see that Sirius' eyes are black again. He draws his wand.

"You're not going to curse me." Sirius takes two steps nearer. "Not in this body."

"I have no problem destroying dark magic."

"Go on then," the voice says. As Sirius' jaw moves a bit more of the thick black liquid spills from his mouth. "He's already hurting. He's already sick from fighting me. What more can a few spells do?"

Remus' wand hand twitches at the thought of Sirius in pain. In the moment's hesitation he is knocked to the floor by Sirius' body and the shock causes the wands to fly out of his hand. He tries to push Sirius off him but the dark magic has made the man stronger and Remus can do little to fight the hands that wrap around his neck.

He makes a choking noise as the grip tightens and he tugs at Sirius' hands. His face feels hot as the air starts to slip away from him and every attempt to breathe feels more difficult. Black dots obscure his view and, although he continues to fight, he can feel himself getting weaker.

And then he is released. He coughs as he struggles for air, his chest painful from the pace of the breaths. Sirius is still on top of him but his eyes are normal and the tears that are trickling down his face are a natural colour. Remus gently rolls Sirius off him, so they are lying together on the floor.

"Sorry. Sorry," Sirius says, his face scrunched up in pain and his body quivering.

Remus puts a hand at the base of Sirius' head to hold it up from the floor. "Are you okay?"

"No. Not got long." Sirius gasps. "The book's under the- under the floor. Under the third floorboard." His eyes begin to flicker shut. "Be- be quick."

Remus gently lays the unconscious man's head back on the floor. As he pulls his hand away he sees that it is covered in black blood from where he had been touching the side of Sirius' ear.

He collects the wands and blasts a hole in the floor where Sirius had directed him to. As expected he can see a thick book a few inches beneath. He grabs it and holds it to his chest as he dashes back to the other man. Sirius' pulse is faint but there. Remus is about to disapparate when an idea comes to him. He opens the volume at a random page and encloses the key within it. As soon as the book is shut, black smoke begins to surface from within and the rope around Sirius' neck slowly disintegrates.

Remus reopens the book to check, and all that remains of the key is the faint outline of it copied onto the pages. The relief only lasts a second. Sirius is still unconscious, limp and cold against him.


	17. Chapter 17

**I usually don't post a chapter until I'm a considerable way into writing the next one, but this time I'm not. Unfortunately that means I can't guarantee an imminent update but I've had this chapter written for over a week now and I wanted to post it. I'll try to get on with the next chapter; any suggestions for plot are more than welcome.**

**Thank you, as always, for the reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy it.**

**17.**

**Sirius**

Sirius' first thought is that he's floating, but then he realises there is a soft mattress beneath his back and the feeling is simply one of light-headedness, a result of all the time he spent with a dark weight inside him.

He opens his eyes and the world swims in front of him until a familiar hand touches him on the shoulder. He rolls his head so his cheek rests on the pillow and squints until Remus comes into focus.

"Hey, Padfoot."

"Hey," he murmurs. He looks around and realises he's in the side cubicle of Hogwarts hospital wing, the place he spent so much time helping Remus recover.

"How you feeling?"

Sirius pats his bare chest, searching for the key. "It's gone?"

"Gone," Remus confirms. "You didn't answer my question."

"Feel funny." He exhales sleepily. "I don't remember."

"You were cursed, Pads. From the key."

Sirius frowns. "It wouldn't come off."

"It just needed to be reunited with the item it was leading us to. A book. Do you remember that?"

"Don't know."

Remus entwines his fingers with Sirius'. "Don't worry about it for now. I'm just glad you're okay."

"I thought I heard some noise," a voice calls.

Madam Pomfrey's face suddenly looms into view as she scrutinises Sirius' appearance. "Hmm," she says. "Still a little pale for my liking, but you'll live. You've had worse, we all know that."

Sirius smiles. "Pops."

"That wasn't appropriate last time you were a patient, Mr Black, and neither is it now." She pauses and her stern face breaks into a grin. "Oh, it is good to see you boys though. You know, my ward has been practically empty since the four of you left."

"No more werewolves at school then?" Remus asks, wryly

"If only," Pomfrey replies. "There was never a dull moment with you around, that's for sure. Now, Mr Lupin, help me get this one into a sitting position," she says, indicating Sirius. "I have a whole heap of potions waiting especially for him."

"Potions?"

"Of course, Mr Black. Would I really miss the opportunity to get some of my best medicine down your throat?" She smiles and bustles off to her office.

Sirius does his best to co-operate as Remus sits him up, but his limbs all feel stiff and clumsy. "Was I bad?" He says.

"Barely alive," Remus replies, his brutal honesty almost painful. "The key wasn't happy with someone from our side following its secrets. It was trying to possess you." He pauses and tightens his grip on Sirius's hand.

Sirius is shocked to see Remus' eyes mist over. "Then what?"

"It was making you say things, do things; you weren't you. If you did something the dark magic wasn't happy with then the key would hurt you or make you ill. In the end the energy you put into fighting it almost killed you."

Sirius is silent as he considers. "It's all fuzzy."

"Maybe it'll come back to you."

Sirius shrugs. He can see Remus fingering the skin around his own neck and although there are no marks to be seen he knows Remus well enough to tell what the gesture means. "I hurt you?"

"It's nothing."

"Remus, I-"

The apology remains unsaid as Madam Pomfrey returns and plonks a tray of potions on the bedside cabinet.

"Now remember, Mr Black, I charge a galleon for each complaint I hear. We'll start with the foulest one first then things can only get better, eh," she says, with a smile. She hands him a potion which is clear in colour but steaming.

Sirius downs it in one, knowing that taking small sips only prolongs the process and makes it worse. He pulls a face but doesn't make any noise or objections.

"When can he come home?" Remus asks.

Pomfrey selects another potion from the tray. "We'll see how effective these are first. It won't be today or tomorrow, I'm afraid." She conjures another chair and sits down next to the bed, ruffling Sirius' hair. "Oh, I'm so glad you didn't do those horrid things they said."

* * *

><p>The front door is barely closed when Remus grabs him around the waist and kisses him deeply.<p>

"I'm so glad you're back," Remus says.

Sirius returns the kiss with equal enthusiasm. "Me too, if this is what I get for it."

"You'll be getting more than just this."

Sirius puts a hand out to steady them as they crash into the dining table. "Uh, Moony, I know it wouldn't be the first time, but I think we can think of somewhere better than the table."

"Oh yeah?" Remus runs his hand through Sirius' overgrown hair. "And where would that be then?"

"It begins with a b"

Remus pretends to think. "The… bath?"

"Maybe later," Sirius says, sneaking his hands down Remus' back. "But right now I just want to take you to bed, and as soon as possible."

"Bed? Oh, that was the b. So predictable Padfoot, I-"

Sirius shuts him up with another bruising kiss. He presses their hips together. "I'll give you predictable." He pushes Remus' jacket off his shoulders and tears open his shirt with little regard for the buttons. He takes the lead now, pushing them away from the table and fumbling with Remus' belt. This time it's the wall they hit and Sirius makes good use of trapping Remus between himself and the wall by shoving both Remus' layers to around his ankles and dropping to his knees.

Much later they lie on the bed together, bare legs entwined and bare chests heaving.

"I can't say I'm _exactly_ sure how we made it upstairs, but that was good," Remus says, idly stroking Sirius' arm.

"Damn good." Sirius pulls him in for another kiss. "Definitely worth losing my mind for a few days."

"Don't even think of doing it again."

"But-"

"No. Next time you risk your life I'm withholding sex."

Sirius grins. "As if."

"Try me!"

Sirius rolls on top of him. He plants one kiss on Remus' lips then works his way down his neck and chest, murmuring against his skin. "You can't resist me, Moony. You couldn't stay away if you tried." He chuckles as he sees Remus' body already reacting to his ministrations.

"Alright," Remus says. "Alright." He wraps his fingers in Sirius' hair and gently pulls him back up so they can look each other in the eyes. "You had me so worried though. I thought I was going to lose you."

The shake in Remus' voice sobers him and he gently brushes Remus' nose with his own. "You're never going to lose me."

Remus kisses him. "Good."

* * *

><p>When Dumbledore drops by unannounced it should be a surprise, but it's not.<p>

Sirius eyes him warily, unsure how well the professor will take to him after the way he treated him under the spell of the key. His memory, aided by Remus' tales, has improved a little. The last few days of their journey are patchy but he remembers the odd detail, the odd snippet of conversation and the odd flash of anger. It feels as if he dreamt them.

Dumbledore holds out his hand and Sirius takes it, shaking it firmly.

"Professor, I'm sorry. Remus tells me I was awful to you."

"No, it is I who need to apologise." Dumbledore pauses. "Shall we sit? Sirius, I underestimated the influence the key could have. I knew it was a dark object and yet I failed to fully investigate its legacy."

Sirius shrugs. "We needed to get it."

"That is true. But my negligence could have cost you your life and that for that I can never forgive myself."

Remus leans forward in his chair. "Was it worth it though? Did you find anything in the book?"

"Ancient Runes was not one of the subjects I studied during my time at Hogwarts," Dumbledore begins. "Although it is an area I have since increased my knowledge in, I admit it comes far from naturally to me. It is for that reason it has taken me a week of intense study to decipher the details within the book."

"But you have?"

Dumbledore pauses. "Yes," he says. "I have." He clears his throat. "I could really do with a cup of tea."

Sirius exchanges a look of frustration with Remus, knowing that for once they are both as impatient as each other. They make the drinks together, Sirius producing the water from his wand while Remus uses a charm to heat it.

Dumbledore takes his time finishing his tea, then pulls out a handkerchief and mops his mouth and beard, despite none of the liquid having spilt.

"Well?" Sirius says, his anticipation no longer refined. His own drink is now forgotten and rapidly cooling.

Dumbledore looks surprised at the interruption. "Yes, the book. The runes denoted minutes, of sorts, evidently compiled by various Death Eaters. I find myself incredibly dubious that Voldemort would have been aware of its existence. Tom was a clever boy, I'll give him that much, and he knew better than to leave a trail. As we know, since Voldemort's demise all Death Eaters have dispersed. This means the final entry was made a few weeks before James and Lily's deaths."

"Then that means there will be nothing about Peter," Remus says.

Sirius looks up sharply. "Then it was a waste of our time."

"Can I continue?" Dumbledore says, still perfectly calm. "Excellent. There may be no concrete information about where he is now, but there are plenty of plans for every eventuality. For example, it appears the idea for Death Eaters to claim they were under the Imperius curse was a carefully thought out idea, rather than a spontaneous plea. Even among their own ranks there were certain aspects of loyalty. They wanted as many of them to stay out of Azkaban as possible."

"But Peter," Sirius says.

"Peter. Yes. A revelation of his double life was one of the prospects they had planned for. If the time was ever to come where James, Lily, or either of you was to suspect him he needed a contingency. You were obviously all aware of his animagus form and so simply turning into a rat was not enough. Similarly to how Death Eaters hid in plain sight in their jobs at the Ministry, the plan was for Peter to hide himself in a role as a common pet rat."

Remus nods. "You'd already guessed as much."

"I had," Dumbledore says. "But I could do nothing more than speculate whose rat he would become. The book provided me with a name. A family name."

"Who?"

Dumbledore strokes his beard. "The Weasleys."


End file.
